


Another Crown of Winter Roses

by LadyBee



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Cousin Incest, Cousins, F/M, Jon is prince, Lyanna is alive, Minor Lyanna Stark/Rhaegar Targaryen, Rhaegar won the war, alternative universe, some things were meant to happen anyway, the king and queen need some therapy, there's a lot of bitterness going around, tournament
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-06-22 09:14:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 78,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15578601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBee/pseuds/LadyBee
Summary: “I hope that the talent with weapons is the only thing your son inherited from the King. The gods know I haven’t brought my daughter to the capitol for  her to get in trouble because of another Targaryen Prince.”Ned would learn later that some things are better left unsaid, even if it’s just a joke. One can never know when the gods are listening to a suggestion.





	1. Chapter 1

For nearly twenty years she had carried her guilt and sorrow like she carried her own crown. Even if she had been only a child back then, Lyanna learned – probably too late – how costly a reckless decision could be.

Robert Baratheon had been a depraved fool that would never keep to one bed, but her father had seen that match like a great deal. For a girl of fifteen, the idea of marriage was a bit terrifying and once Lyanna had the chance to meet her betrothed she was certain that Robert could never make her happy.

The Tournament of Harrenhall happened and her destine was sealed for good once Rhaegar found her trying to get rid of the armor she had used to compete in the joust just to avenge Howland Reed. Little she knew that what followed would change her life and the kingdom forever. At least she had been allowed to keep a tinny bit of happiness once she had no more tears to shed.

“Do I look...You know. Northerner enough?” Jon asked her as he stared at the looking glass to check the new clothes she had given him.

Queen Lyanna couldn’t help the proud grin whenever she looked at her son. Even if he was a Targaryen in name and destined to become King one day, she would hold to the idea that the boy belonged to her alone at least in which concerned his features.

There was nothing of Rhaegar in Jon’s looks and even the prince’s quiet and sober disposition was very similar to that of Ned. In fact, it was possible that Jon looked more like Lord Stark than Ned’s own sons.

“You look just like a Winter Prince.” She said as she caressed his face fondly. Not long ago his face had been smooth to the touch, but since his last birthday her son started to shave daily.

“Do you think Lord Stark will approve of me? I know how important this is to you, Mother...I just...I don’t want to ruin everything.” Jon have always been a good boy and, even if he was a man grown and too old to care about his old mother, he cared for her.

“I’m sure your uncle will be impressed. You look dashing.” Lyanna fixed the dragon pin on his right shoulder just to make sure he would look like a perfect prince in the eyes of her family. “All the ladies of the court will be fighting each other to get your attention for sure.”

“I’m not concerned about the ladies. I’ll be too busy entertaining Lord Stark’s family and preparing for the tournament to even look at a girl.” Jon said immediately. He had been dreaming of that day since the King decided to have his son and heir trained by the master of arms. At the age of eight-and-ten the prince was a swordsman almost as good as Arthur Dayne.

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea for you to compete. Tourneys can be dangerous and you are the prince. This is unnecessary danger.” Lyanna insisted. She had argued with the King about a dozen times to prevent Rhaegar of allowing such a folly.

“I can’t help it, Mother. It’s in my blood. The King is known for his talent at the tournaments and even you have competed once. Let me have my chance at it and prove myself to be as good as my Father.” Jon asked with his voice full of excitement. “After that I’m sure you and Father will have a match for me and then I’ll think about girls and all the obligations that I have to the Throne, but now...This is all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Fine!” Lyanna agreed since there was nothing she could do to stop her son whenever Jon had already made up his mind. “Just be careful.”

“I will.” He promised. “I wonder if cousin Robb will compete as well. Uncle Benjen told me that Lord Stark’s heir is good with the sword.”

“I doubt it. Tournaments are not a norther tradition. Besides...Ned has a distaste for such events since Harrenhall.” She said with a trembling voice that made Jon look at her with concern.

“I know this is important to you.” He said before kissing both of her hands with affection. “I don’t know what happened to have Lord Stark warm up to our invitation, but if he is coming with his whole family...I think this is a good sign. Maybe this time emends will be made and Lord Stark will let this grudge behind him. He is your brother after all. He must have a good heart.”

“Ned is the best man I’ve ever met. Don’t let Benjen, Dayne or your Father know that I told you this.” She tried to sound playful this time and that seemed to ease Jon’s worries. “We must go. They will be here at any minute now.”Jon offered her his left arm to escort her to the Throne room.

The place was unusually silent, even though the arrival of the Warden of The North was an event of some consequence. The King was well aware of how delicate that moment was and whatever would be said inside that room would be more likely to remain there if there was no one else to hear. Her husband might not be pleased with Lord Stark’s insubordination, but without witnesses it would be easier for Rhaegar to forgive and forget whatever offense Ned might have caused.

Rhaegar was already there, looking as handsome, regal and ethereal as ever. She took a deep breath before taking the seat by his right side in silence, while Jon took his own seat on the right.

The King too a second to look at her directly while Lyanna kept looking at the door as her heartbeat increased with the anxiety.

“You look splendid, my love.” Rhaegar said with his melodious and gentle voice. He had called her “my love” and Lyanna knew all too well what that meant. He would summon her to his chambers that night and she would have to pretend to be that naive girl he once crowned Queen of Love and Beauty for the night. A small price to pay, if the King accepted her family with open arms as he had promised. “Lord Stark will be pleased to see his beautiful sister after so many years.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” She replied dutifully and Rhaegar turned his attentions to their son.

“Dark gray and silver...” Rhaegar noticed. “It suits you better than I expected. I’m sure your uncle will be impressed.”

“Thank you, Father.” Jon answered proudly although Lyanna knew what that meant. Rhaegar had never overcome his disappointment in which concerned Jon’s looks. The boy was all Stark and the blood of old Valyria seemed to be lost in him. The King had wished for three true born dragons and now only Lyanna’s wolf pup remained alive. Jon tried to compensate it by excelling in any task thrown at him, but Rhaegar seemed constantly unimpressed by the boy’s efforts.

It didn’t take long for the northerner party to be announced and Lyanna could already feel her knees weakening as her heart ached with longing. The doors were opened and a hopeful smile reached her face as Ned walked into the Throne room with all the mighty of a Winter King.

Her brother was no longer the solemn young lad she remembered. He had grown a beard and gained some weight. His hair had a few white strings and his eyes seemed tired, but Lyanna would have recognized him anywhere even if a thousand years had passed.

Catelyn followed her husband dutifully. Her auburn hair and blue eyes remained as impressive as ever and her face was still pretty and elegant.

The children followed their parents into the room. The eldest boy escorted a young woman that Lyanna assumed to be his bride. Rhaegar hadn’t been pleased when the news of Robb’s wedding to Alys Karstark reached the capitol and that was one of the reasons for Rhaegar’s discontentment. The other boy escorted a girl about his age and it was quite clear that those were Lord Stark’s younger children. All of them bowed in front of the royal family as it was expected.

“Welcome to King’s Landing.” Rhaegar greeted as protocol demanded. “It is our pleasure to have all of you in court.”

“It’s an honor to be invited to such a memorable event.” Eddard answered in a sober tone before looking up to face both the King and the Queen. Lyanna noticed that Ned’s daughter bit her bottom lip as if she was trying to keep the words locked up inside her mouth as her brother pinched her arm discreetly. “We wish our Prince joy, wisdom and a long life in honor to his name’s day.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Jon answered immediately. “I must say that I’m very happy to have you and your family here. It’s a pleasure to finally meat you.”

Rhaegar didn’t bother to silence the boy and that seemed to warm up Ned’s heart. He looked at Jon with fondness and melancholy.

“Your Highness has grown into a fine young man. A handsome one at that.” Lyanna could see her brother’s eyes watering and she knew why. Jon surely look like Brandon at times, although he had nothing of their brother’s wildness.

“That he is.” Lyanna agreed out loud, making Ned turn his face to look at her directly. “It’s wonderful to see you again, brother.”

“With that much I agree. It has been quite a long time and it soothes my heart to see Your Grace in good health.” Ned answered her and it pained Lyanna to see him addressing her by her title.

“I thought all of your children would attend. I think some are missing.” Rhaegar claimed the attention back. “Where are the others?”

“Rickon, my youngest, is at the Riverlands. Lord Tully agreed to have him as a squire. As for my eldest daughter...Sansa went to Highgarden with her husband. She has been married to Willas Tyrell for a few month now.” Eddard replied and at that Rhaegar’s face became livid with contained anger.

“A very fortunate match. Congratulations, my lord and lady. I wonder why I haven’t been informed of such a union previously.” Rhaegar said.

“It was all very sudden.” It was Catelyn so speak in her daughter’s defense. She was a smart woman that knew when she was stepping on thin ice. “Willas and his siblings came visited us not long ago and my daughter was instantly taken by his clever mind and kindness. We agreed with the match for the sake of our daughter’s happiness, Your Grace.”

“As any loving mother would do.” Lyanna spoke in her sister-in-law’s defense and Catelyn looked back at her with thankful eyes. “I wish her a very happy marriage. A match with the Tyrell heir is certainly a very fortunate one, don’t you agree, my love?” She addressed Rhaegar in a loving way to soothe his temper. The King couldn’t say that the union wasn’t beneficial to the crown, but she knew that her husband was ready to take offense at Ned’s slightest mistake.

“Indeed. As it’s proper we shall have our gifts delivered to them once the Tyrell’s arrive to the festivities.”Rhaegar looked at Catelyn and smiled at her. “Your motherly love moves us, my lady. It is a pleasure to see you and your children at court. Would you be so kind and introduce us to these lovely creatures?”

“This is my first born, Robb. Alys, his wife.” Catelyn said immediately. “This is Brandon and my youngest daughter, Arya.” The children came forward and bowed in front of the royal family.

“Strong boys.” Rhaegar declared. “I’m sure you’ll provide Prince Jon with a good challenge at the tournament. I’m very eager for the competition to start.”

“We will do our very best, Your Grace.” Robb answered with politeness.

“Now...Here we have something rare. Look at me, young lady.” Rhaegar commanded as pointing to Ned’s daughter.

The girl obeyed. What else a young girl could do when the King demanded her attention? Lyanna knew all about how difficult it was to avoid the King’s eyes.

It wasn’t difficult to see why Rhaegar was suddenly interested. The girl was young and growing into her beauty. Her face was very similar to Lyanna’s when the Queen was still only a girl in the North.

“What a lovely sight.” The King said with a smile. “Arya, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” The girl answered.

“Have you ever been told of how much you look like my beloved Queen?” Rhaegar asked kindly. “So alike that I’m sure that if we had had a daughter she would be just like you.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” She answered briefly.

“The court has much to offer in entertainment to a young lady.” Lyanna said kindly to her niece. “Tell me, niece. What is it that you would like to do while you are here?”

“I’m already doing it.” The girl said awkwardly before biting her bottom lip. “I wanted to see the dragon skulls and the Iron Throne...” She looked around the room with her eyes wide open and shining with excitement as Catelyn’s face was taken by embarrassment for her daughter’s lack of manners. “They are bigger than I thought.” Lyanna’s heart warmed up at her nieces innocent enthusiasm and the queen smiled in a way that she hasn’t done in ages.

“I think my lady might enjoy visiting the Dragons’ Pit.” To Lyanna’s surprise, it was Jon the one to suggest it. “If His Grace allows, I could take you there. Your brothers to, of course.” Jon corrected himself so the suggestion wouldn’t sound improper or offensive to Ned’s ears. Lyanna couldn’t tell if her son was just trying to be friendly toward his cousins, or if the girl had somehow captured his attention especially.

“By all means, you, young spirits, must enjoy everything King’s Landing has to offer. Our son will guide you in these adventures.” Rhaegar agreed in what seemed to be an act of benevolence. “How rude of me. You must all be very tired. Rest as much as you like. We shall celebrate your arrival properly at the banquet tonight.”

Lord’s Starks family left as soon as the King allowed it. Once they were alone again Rhaegar turned to face Jon with careful eyes.

“It was very thoughtful of you to offer yourself as a guide to your cousin.” The King said. “I believe that I don’t have to remind you of the importance of this event. We need Lord Stark on our side and I would appreciate it if you became close to your cousins, especially Lord Stark’s heir.”

“I will do my best, Father.” Jon answered with enthusiasm and conviction.

“I’m sure you will.” Rhaegar said. “Now… I would like to have word with your mother privately. Invite your cousins to your pavilion when the tournament starts. I’m sure they will appreciate it.”

Jon bowed dutifully before leaving the room. Lyanna had never seen her son so happy before and she would do anything to keep him like that for as long as possible.

Rhaegar turned to face her and at that moment he was no longer King. He was just a sad prince lost in his own tragedy. The same man who promised her the world if she agreed to have him. She couldn’t refuse him all those years ago and she still couldn’t do it.

“You brother clearly hates me.” Rhaegar said in a resigned tone. “I know I can’t blame him for being so difficult given everything, but...His insubordination is getting out of control. Having two of his children married off without consulting us is outrageous to say the least and you know it.”

“What would you have me do? You’ve seen it with your own eyes. Ned won’t speak to me unless he is commanded to do so. I am no longer his little sister. I’m just the woman who helped to kill our father, brother and Ned’s best friend. My brother hates me and he has all the reasons to do so.” She tried to contain her tears but at that point she could no longer pretend she wasn’t desolate.

Rhaegar held her face between his soft hands in a gesture of kindness and understanding. Those moments were rare.

“I know you blame me for everything that happened to your family, but you were not the only one to lose a great deal during the war.” He said gently in a sad tone. “I should have done a great deal of things differently and I know I will never be anything but the man who ruined your life in your eyes but,...I loved you at the moment I found you by the river, and I still love you, Lyanna. If only you could forgive me...I could have made you happy.”

“Do you want to make me happy?” She asked with her face still covered with tears. “So give your son a bit of your love for me. Jon wishes for nothing but your approval. He may not be the prince that was promised. He may not have your eyes and hair, but he is still your son.”

“I know.” Rhaegar agreed. “He is a good boy. A loving one, thanks to you. I love him, Lyanna. I’m just not sure of how I can love anything without turning it into ashes.”

“Spend some time with him. Teach him how to do something. Take him to the Small Council with you so he can learn what it means to be king. Do whatever you want, but let Jon know that his father loves him.” She said.

“Fine. I’ll do as you suggests. Meanwhile, why don’t you invite your brother to the solar and try to reason with him? He came all the way here to celebrate our son’s name-day, so I think he might still forgive one of us. That would make you happy, wouldn’t it?”

“More than anything.” Lyanna confessed and Rhaegar took it as an authorization to kiss her as he hadn’t done in a long time. She closed her eyes and answered the kiss dutifully until the King had enough.

“Come to me tonight.” He said as she had expected. “It has been a long while... Maybe this time the gods will bless us with another child.”

Rhaegar had hoped that she would give him more children after Jon was born. It had been a terrible event and Lyanna nearly died in the process. After that she was never able of taking another pregnancy to its end. From all of her four babies, only Jon had come in to the world.

“As you wish.”

 

§§§§§

 

The Queen had invited him to have some tea with her, just like she had invited him to the boy’s name-day. In both occasions Ned considered to decline, but it was Lyanna and his heart wasn’t made of ice.

To see Rhaegar again was a real challenge. Ned hated the man and everything that happened because of his so called love, but the King had honored his word. Lyanna became his wife and Jon was now Rhaegar’s sole heir. Mother and son were safe, he had been pardoned and his family was left in peace; that was everything Ned Stark could wish.

He found the Queen alone and waiting for him with evident anxiety. She hadn’t change much, except for a few lines around her eyes. In many ways, Lyanna remained the same sweet girl and Ned had missed her dearly.

“I thought you wouldn’t come.” Lyanna said once she saw him standing at the door, ignoring the protocol and the formality of the occasion. “Please, have a seat.”

“I can’t really say no when the Queen summons.” Ned answered calmly. “I was happy though. I has been a long time without talking to my little sister.”

Soon she was crying and Ned wondered how many times she might have done it silently to not anger the King. Lyanna never had the chance to mourn their father and brother openly. She hasn’t been allowed to visit the crypts and say goodbye. She became Queen instead and her sorrow was something to be hidden from public eyes.

Ned opened his arms and she ran to him in a way Arya would have done. He hugged her tightly and allowed her to cry as much as she wanted. He should have been more flexible, he realized. Lyanna didn’t deserve to suffer alone.

“Forgive me.” She begged. “Forgive me, Ned.”

“There’s nothing for me to forgive.” He said sadly. “You couldn’t reject the prince even if you wanted to. What happened was a terrible fatality, but it wasn’t your fault. Aerys was a mad man and Rhaegar...He should have known better.”

“Why haven’t you come earlier? I wrote to you about a thousand times and you never bothered to answer.” Her voice sounded miserable and for that Ned had little to no excuse. He hadn’t been prepared to be attached to the royal family, not after the war.

“Just because Rhaegar chose to spare my life it doesn’t mean that I’m no longer a traitor in his eyes. I was afraid for you, for your son and my own family. I wish I could have done more for you and Jon, but I wasn’t sure of what to do.”

“What made you change your mind? It’s not as if it was the first time I invited you.” Lyanna held his hands tightly.

“Cat convinced me it was for the best. With Robb and Sansa married off, we didn’t want it to be seen as an act of insubordination. I’m sure I’ll have to talk to the King about it and I’ll be walking on thing ice while doing so, but...Robb’s marriage to a Karstark is hardly a threat and Sansa...Well, Highgarden is everything she could ever wish for and Willas is a good man.”

“Rhaegar is afraid of the rumors coming from the North. All the separatist talking...Your children being married off without him being consulted…You gave him a lot to be suspicious off and even if he is not Aerys, a King can’t afford being mindless of such things.”

“That much I suspected.” Ned sighted. “Alys keeps Robb out of trouble. She is a good girl, with a pragmatic mind and wise judgment. She keeps him grounded and out of trouble. Sansa is as far as it is possible for her to be and she is happy with her life. Bran and Rickon are too young to care for rebellions and separatist talking.”

“As young as we were when you called the banners, but Rhaegar may be convinced that they don’t represent a threat.” Lyanna suggested. “What about your other girl? She made quite an impression today.”

“Arya is a real challenge. She is no wiser than you at the age of four-and-ten and I may have been too permissive in her education. Cat despairs over making a lady out of her, but Arya have always been half a boy and half a wolf pup. She has a rebellious nature and keeping her away from the rumors is probably the wisest thing I can do right now.”

“She seemed to be such a joyful girl.” Lyanna smiled at him and Ned felt suddenly afraid. His daughter and his sister had the same eyes, the same smile and the same wildness, but he would do his best to protect Arya in the way he couldn’t protect Lyanna.

“She is.” He agree. “I know a father shouldn’t have favorites, but...She never fails to sooth my spirit whenever I feel worried or sad. She has a gift, you know...Arya can always makes me laugh.”

“I wish I have had a daughter like yours then.” Lyanna said sadly. “I love Jon with all my heart and he never fails to bring happiness to my days but...He belongs to the crown even if I like to pretend otherwise. A girl would belong to me alone. I would be able to keep her under my wing and let her be as wild as she liked. Jon will never have this freedom and there’s nothing I can do to help him.”

“It’s the fate of parents. We will always worry about our children, won’t we?” Ned tried to sound funny. “Cat thinks that a bit of southern education might help Arya, but somehow I doubt it. I wouldn’t like to have her stuck here anyway.”

“Not even to keep me company?” Lyanna asked kindly. “I would like to get to know my nice. It’s often lonely here. I could do with a bit of her joy to bright up my days while you are here. Do you think Catelyn would oppose?”

“Not at all. I can hardly think of anything that would make her happier, but I can say the same about Arya. She is a challenge and you do have a history of being a terrible influence. I don’t want my daughter competing as a mystery night.”

“The gods know I’m still paying for that. Jon will compete in the joust and the melee. I’m almost having him locked up inside his room until the tournament is over.” Lyanna rolled her eyes and at that Ned laughed openly.

“Now you know how father felt that day!” Ned said breathless with laugh. “The boy is any good with weapons at least?”

“He has been trained by the master of arms since he was four. At the age of one-and-ten Arthur Dayne became his teacher and he is quite proud of Jon’s progress. My son might not be a musician as great as his father, but he certainly inherited Rhaegar’s talent with weapons. I still worry about him though.”

“I would be surprise if you didn’t. Fear not, sister. I’ll tell Robb to go easy on your boy.” Ned answered in provocation.

“I’ll tell Jon to not hurt his cousin...Much.” Lyanna replied and for a second Ned felt they have traveled back in time and were no longer the Queen and the Lord Stark. For a moment they were just siblings being silly with each other.

“I hope that the talent with weapons is the only thing your son inherited from the King. The gods know I haven’t brought my daughter to the capitol to get in trouble because of another Targaryen Prince.”

Ned would learn later that some things are better left unsaid, even if it’s just a joke. One can never know when the gods are listening to a suggestion.


	2. Chapter 2

To say that the Prince was taken by a deep anxiety was an understatement. Jon had always been somewhat aware that Robert’s Rebellion left several open wounds in his family, especially in his mother’s heart. For years Lord Stark refused to answer any of the Queen’s letters and declined every invitation to attend court and that had made the Queen’s life miserable.

For the first time in eighteen years Lord Stark agreed to visit the capitol in honor to the Prince’s name-day and that added a tremendous responsibility to Jon’s shoulders. It wasn’t just about politics. It was mostly a matter of making his mother happy.

The King had mentioned several times the importance of his son being close to his cousins. Jon knew all to well what bothered Rhaegar Targaryen about the North. It wasn’t just the Queen’s heart and their marriage in line. The reports about a separatist group in the North were plenty and they were becoming frequent. The King needed Lord Stark to remain faithful and loyal to the crown, despite of all the bad blood between the two great houses. There was no better way of settling that alliance than remembering Lord Stark that Queen Lyanna and her son were still his family.

Jon doubted that it would be hard to befriend Robb Stark. They were about the same age and had somewhat similar tastes. They both were fond of hunting, horse riding, sword fighting and shared the same burden of carrying the name and honor of their families.

Brandon, on the other hand, was still a young lad of three-and-ten, or close enough to make no difference. Jon doubted he would have much in common with him, but how hard could it be to please a boy of such an age? A tankard of ale, or wine, along with all the support to the boy’s pranks should do the trick.

It was Lady Arya the one he knew nothing about. Of course he was aware that Lord Stark had daughters, but he didn’t expected to be paired with one of them during the banquet. That had been his mistake since the arrangement was a quite obvious move.

His mother had warned him that the girl was Lord Stark’s favorite and therefore Jon should be mindful of his courtesies and absolutely respectful toward his lady cousin.

That was hardly the first time he had to interact with a lady, but he had never been required to escort or entertain any woman that wasn’t his mother before, so he couldn’t help feeling anxious. The brief interaction in the Throne Room hadn’t help either.

Jon couldn’t tell what had possessed him to speak out of turn like that. Perhaps it had been the girl’s obvious excitement and her bright gray eyes. She seemed to be curious about dragons and he was suppose to be a good cousin to all of Lord Stark’s children. To offer himself to show her the Dragon’s Pit seemed to be a good idea. Only after he had already spoken Jon realized how odd and inappropriate the suggestion might had sounded. The prince...Taking a lady he wasn’t committed to to the Dragon’s Pit...Unchaperoned. That was quite absurd.

At least the King seemed to be pleased with Jon’s initiative, even if the execution had been far from perfect. The banquet should provide him with opportunities to make emends and talk to Lady Arya in a more appropriate way.

Jon met the Starks at the entrance of the hall. The King and Queen would only arrive once all the guests had been accommodate so it was Jon’s responsibility to represent the royal family during the first hour of the festivities.

Lord Stark, impressive as he was, seemed to be a man of good nature and always pleasant to him. To that Jon was thankful.

“I’m not sure if the Queen has ever told you, but...You look much like our brother, Brandon.” Lord Stark said fondly.

“Her Grace seems to be unsure about who I really remind her of. Sometimes she says I’m just like uncle Benjen, other times she says I’m much like you, my lord. She doesn’t speak much of her older brother though.” Jon said with honesty.

“He was a man of short temper and brave nature with a handsome face. A fool at times, but he had a good heart. He was very close to your mother when Lyanna was just a little girl.” Lord Stark’s gray eyes were sad for a moment. “That’s a story for another time, I suppose.”

“Of course. I would love to hear all about my other uncle.” Jon said politely. “I want to thank you, my lord. Your presence means a lot to me and my mother.”

“I needed so see what kind of man the baby I brought from Dorne to the capitol had become. So far I’m pleased to see that you grew into a fine young man.” Jon couldn’t help blushing at the compliment.

“Thank you. I suppose it’s about time for us to take our places. Mother will be furious if I keep all of you waiting and starving outside.” Jon looked around searching for Lady Arya, but to his surprise and disappointment he couldn’t find the girl. “Where is Lady Arya?”

“I thought she was following us.” Lady Catelyn said out of shock. “That willful child! She must have been distracted by something along the way.”

“It’s not difficult to get lost inside the Red Keep. I’ll find her.” Jon offered. “It won’t take long. Excuse me.”

Before Lord and Lady Stark could say anything, the Prince had already disappeared in the dark hallways that led to the Maindens’ Vault.

It didn’t take long for the Prince to find his cousin. Lady Arya was looking through a window that had a view to the courtyard where the knights of the King’s Guard used to practice.

Jon had the chance to observed her closely for the first time as she looked at the courtyard with the same enthusiasm he had witnessed earlier. She wasn’t tall. In fact she looked rather delicate inside her light blue damask dress adorned with pearls. Her long dark hair had been curled and braided in a simple pattern that his own mother used to favor whenever she had to attend to an informal event. In fact...Lady Arya was much similar to the Queen except for her vivid eyes and dazzled smile.

“Excuse me, my lady.” He said to call her attention and Lady Arya looked at him startled. “I didn’t mean to startle or interrupt you, but...We are waited at the Great Hall.”

“I know. I’m just not sure if I want to attend this banquet.” She answered as a matter of fact and without carrying at all about addressing him by his tittle. “Not when this seems so much funnier.”

“I’m sure you’ll have other opportunities to watch the King’s Guard’s training in the future, but right now it wouldn’t be wise of you to offend the King with your absence.” He replied while feeling slightly offended by her attitude. “I told Lord and Lady Stark that I would escort you back.”

“It isn’t necessary. I can find my way just fine. I just wanted to have a bit of air before facing the whole court and the King again. A servant could escort me anyway. It’s not as if I am someone of great consequence to be escorted by the Prince.” She finally turned to face him.

“The King disagrees. He asked me to escort you personally this evening. I’m also supposed to prove myself to be a good company to you and your siblings. I understand that court can be really uncomfortable and scary, especially for someone who has never been in it before, but...You won’t be paying your family or mine any favor by being insubordinate.”

“Will you and the King burn me alive for by disobedience?” She questioned him boldly and without an ounce of fear. In fact she almost sounded teasing. His blood froze for a second.

Jon walked toward her and held her arm as he looked around to make sure nobody was near to hear them. That seemed to distress her and Jon thought Lady Arya was about to scream, but before she could the Prince placed his finger on her lips so she would remain quiet.

“We are both trapped in this and believe me...It’s not a comfortable position to either of us.” He said in a whisper. “Lord Rickard and his heir were my family too. It’s not easy to any of the involved to accept what happened and the gods know my mother suffers daily because of what my grandfather did to them. I can forgive and forget what you just said because I know how you might feel, but this is not Winterfell and to speak so carelessly can put you in danger. Please...Be careful of what you say.”

Jon let go of her and Lady Arya looked at him with a bit of shame. She lowered her gaze for a while and for a second the Prince thought she might cry.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to scare you.” The Prince said.

“I’m fine. There’s nothing for you to feel sorry about.” She answered shyly. “I’m sorry for what I said.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. We were just talking about sword practicing and how you find it interesting to watch the King’s Guard training.” He said gently before smiling at her. Jon offered her his hand. “Would you give me the honor of escort you, my lady?”

Lady Arya simply nod in agreement and placed her tinny hand in his. Jon took a deep breath and felt a moment of relief as they walked to the Great Hall silently. Lord and Lady Stark seemed to feel the same once they saw their daughter being conduced by the Prince back to her family. It seemed that the girl had a bit of a reputation of being a wild child and her parents had reason to worry about her, especially when King’s Landing could be so dangerous for the reckless ones.

During the banquet the King and Queen talked tried to establish some civil conversation with Lord and Lady Stark. Jon doubted that any political matter of relevance would be discussed that night, so he allowed himself to be a bit relapse with his drinking.

Robb Stark was proving to be a great drinking partner and way easier to deal with than his sister. Lady Arya was close to her brothers and it didn’t take long for Jon to notice that she seemed to share their same hobbies. There was a great level of intimacy among the Stark children. They would talk about anything among them and share the most obscene jokes at times.

At some point Robb looked at him with his cup in hand and fully drunk.

“Don’t let her scare you.” Robb said while pointing at the Prince. “Women...They smell fear from miles of distance.”

“I have no idea of what you are talking about.” Jon replied awkwardly.

“My sister.” Robb said. “Arya is a wildling at heart. Father already gave up the idea of marring her off. She would probably kill her husband at the first chance, I tell you. Don’t let her scare you.”

“If I am so terrifying as you say, it would be wiser for you to shut up.” Lady Arya replied angrily. “You are making fool of yourself.”

“He would know sooner or later. You are not a lady. You are a wolf pup.” Robb insisted.

“I don’t really care. I am half wolf myself, cousin.” Jon replied in an attempt of diplomacy. He surely didn’t want for his lady cousin to be made fun of publicly by her brother. “I think I’ve finally found my pack.”

“I guess it’s about time for us to retire, my love.” Alys said to her husband immediately.

“Why?! We haven’t dance yet.” Robb said. “You look so lovely when you are angry. Why don’t you kiss me, wife?”

“Probably because you smell like a pig after all the ale you had.” It was Arya to reply. “Do as Alys say. Go back to your room.”

“You should be rested for tomorrow.” Jon agreed. “I’m planning for a hunt, since you said that you enjoyed the sport.”

After that and Lord Stark’s cold gaze, Robb agreed to leave the banquet with his wife. Jon looked at his other side to check on his other cousins. Brandon was half asleep in his place while Lady Arya remained alert and looking terribly uncomfortable with the whole environment.

“Were you serious about the hunt?” She eventually asked him.

“It can be arranged, but I was more interested in helping your sister-in-law to get Robb back to their chambers. He could certainly do with a bit of sleep now.” The Prince said. “Would you like to go hunting?”

“I would love to, but mother wouldn’t allow me to do so. She says it’s not appropriate for ladies to take part in violent sports.” Arya answered in an upset tone. “At least if we were home I would be able to ride a bit.”

“The Queen can intervene in the matter if you really want to joying us.” Jon suggested. “You see...My mother is quite fond of hunts and horses too. She will probably love to come along if she isn’t detained by more important matters. I’m sure Lady Stark would allow you to come with us once the Queen has spoken in your favor.”

“You are really a good boy, aren’t you?” She muffled a laugh. “I’ve never thought a prince would be like this.”

“Like what?” He asked while trying to not feel embarrassed by what she said.

“I thought you would be a spoiled brat. A little tyrant used to have your way around every time. I expected even some cruelty from your part, but Your Highness is quite a decent person.” She said gently.

“You were mistaking me with Viserys.” Jon pointed with a bit of resentment in his voice. “Mother raised me to be a better man and I can’t really afford being reckless about my position. Have I been born with the King’s features, there would be no doubt about my capacity of ruling one day. Viserys isn’t the first in line and he has all the Targaryen colors to prove that he is a legitimate asshole. I’m not that lucky.”

“I’m glad that you don’t look like the King. I would hardly be talking to you otherwise.” Arya said kindly.

“I can only imagine the sort of things you’ve heard about my Father and everything that happened after Harrenhall.” He concluded.

“Father rarely speak of it. It’s too painful and I know he was afraid of bringing us here. He didn’t want any of us getting into trouble.” She replied with a sober voice. “With my sister gone, mother thought it would be better for all of us to come.”

“Do you miss your sister?” Jon asked. “I don’t really know how it feels to have siblings.”

“Not much. Sansa and I were never close. She was the perfect lady and I was just...Arya Horse Face.” She shrank her shoulders and looked down. “There wasn’t much of any talents left when I was born. Sansa inherited everything.”

“I guess I can relate to that.” Jon answered with honest sympathy. “Arya Horse Face is a rather cruel thing to call a sister.”

“Now she is married to her handsome Lord and she lives in Highgarden. Can you imagine how frustrating it is? I can’t do better than that. Not a wildling like me.” Arya tried to sound cheerful before taking a sip from her cup. Jon looked at her carefully and the idea came to him with the mighty of a thunder.

“Would you like to prove everyone wrong about you and your sister?” He asked. “I mean...Would you like to prove everyone that you can do just as great in life as she did?”

“That’s the dream, isn’t it?” She said as a matter of fact.

That was all the encouragement the Prince needed.

Jon called for a servant and asked the man to inform the musicians what they should play next. In a few minutes the a vibrant tune started and he looked at his lady cousin. He offered her his hand once more and Arya looked at him as if she had no idea of what he was planning.

All the eyes in the room suddenly fell on them and that was exactly what Jon wanted.

“Would you honor me with a dance, my lady?”

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

By the end of the banquet proved to be even more delicate then he had anticipated. His son seemed to be doing just fine among his northern cousins and Rhaegar allowed himself to have a bit of hope for a diplomatic negotiation with Lord Stark.

His Queen seemed to be happy like she hasn’t been in ages and the sound of her laugh warmed his heart. Maybe they would finally be able to live a good life together and if that worked the King would gladly grant Lord Stark all the land, coin and honor he could wish for.

Every now and then the King would look at his son just to make sure that Jon was doing well. His boy seemed to be interacting easily with Lord Stark’s heir, despite of the fact that Robb was clearly drunk. After a while the red haired lad left the hall in the company of his wife and Rhaegar was pleased to see that his efforts would be jeopardized by a drunken fool.

After that he noticed how Jon talked to the young lady. There was nothing wrong about them being friends. Lady Arya was still young and there was no doubt about her extroverted personality. She reminded him of Lyanna at a similar age and how he had been fascinated by his wife’s sense of humor and reckless defiance of traditions. Lyanna’s smile had costed him several lives, including those of Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon.

The King didn’t bother to worry about those children talking and having some fun for a change. The gods knew that Jon deserved a bit of happiness in his life and Lady Arya didn’t seem much of a threat when the Prince could have any woman in court. Besides, Jon was way more clever than Rhaegar had ever been, or so the King thought.

When the music changed and his son rose from his seat to ask Lady Arya for a dance, Rhaegar’s blood turned into cold water.

The young couple went to the center of the Hall and the whole court was suddenly divided between awe and apprehension. There was nothing wrong about a bit of chat, a song and a dance, but as long as Rhaegar lived such an innocent diversion would never pass by Lord Stark unnoticed.

“Should we do something?” He heard Lyanna’s fearful whisper close to his ear.

“I believe we must.” Rhaegar replied as he held her hand in a sign of support. “I’m constantly admired by how clever those young spirits can be. A dance! What a lovely diversion it can be.” He rose from his seat and turned to Lyanna with a gallant smile. “Would you honor me with this dance, my Queen?”

Lyanna was a clever woman and she knew how to play along with his plans. She accepted his hand dutifully and they joined their son at the center of the room. Soon there were plenty of couples dancing around them and Jon’s recklessness could be mistaken by a gesture of cordiality toward a young lady that was new to the court.

That brief moment filled with tension had also been a sweet one. Lyanna was radiant and gracious in her moves. For a second it felt like they had traveled back in time and they were once more in Harrenhall.

The banquet was over and slowly all the guests left the Hall. Lady Arya disappeared along with her family and Jon soon went back to his room.

Lyanna bid him goodnight and walked away from him as soon as possible, but before she could leave for good he called her name.

“Won’t you come to me, my love?” He asked sadly in the middle of an empty ballroom. The King observed how she lowered her face a bit before turning to look at him.

“I thought Your Grace would be tired after such vibrant celebration.” She lied and he could hardly blame her for doing so.

“I’m certainly not.” He said with conviction as he offered her his hand. “There’s nothing I want more than the pleasure of your company.”

Lyanna accepted his hand and allowed him to conduct her all the way back to his chambers. There was a time in which they shared the same room, but after a couple of years the Queen said she would like to have separate rooms. Rhaegar agreed with the arrangement as he had agreed to fulfill every one of her wishes along those years. Nothing ever made her warm to his presence and every time they shared a bed the King felt like a burden she had to endure.

Elia had been very different about it. They had been strangers to each other at first, but whenever they shared an intimate moment she would never fail to indulge him with caresses and kisses that felt real.

He had condemned Elia to a life of solitude, humiliation and an early death. He had also condemned Lyanna to a similar fate once she said her vows.

Arthur lowered his head as the King and Queen entered the royal chambers. Rhaegar’s old friend was the only one he trusted to keep guard whenever the King decided to have Lyanna for the night. The Sword of the Morning had been the witness of Rhaegar’s love and the legitimacy of Prince Jon since Harrenhall.

Not even once the knight had questioned Rhaegar’s feelings and reasons. Not even once he had asked for a less embarrassing duty, at least it comforted the King to know that Arthur would never hear him being cruel to the Queen as he had heard Aerys violence toward the Queen Mother.

Rhaegar closed the door of his room before turning to face his wife. Lyanna removed her crown and let it resting at his studding table. Her hair fell over her shoulders like a dark cascade and the King admired her for a while.

“What in the Seven Hells Jon was think?” She finally said as she sat on their bed. That was a feeling they shared.

“I have no idea. I suppose I should talk to him about it but I also think that if I do so I’ll only make he game interesting.” Rhaegar replied with doubt. “Perhaps we are seeing too much in an innocent dance. As far as we know, Jon never acted improperly toward any woman. No mistress, no secret affair…A couple of clandestine kisses here and there, but that’s all. Maybe he was just being kind to the girl.”

“He is your son, Rhaegar.” Lyanna replied bitterly. “I can’t really expect him to act differently from you, can I? Once you thought crowning me Queen of Love and Beauty to be a gesture of kindness as well.”

“Looking on the bright side, at least he hasn’t been promised to anyone and neither has the lady.”

“What are you suggesting?” Lyanna’s eyes looked at him as if she couldn’t believe what he had just said.

“Nothing really. I was just thinking that...If he proves to be more like me in this, at least we will be able to negotiate with your brother for a legitimate way out of the mess.”

“I hope it won’t be necessary. The girl is Ned’s favorite. The joy of his days. He will never consider Jon a suitable match for her.” Lyanna declared with pessimism.

“I can’t see why he wouldn’t. Our son is the best suitor a lady could ever get even if he wasn’t meant to become King. He is young, strong, well educated, honorable and kind to everyone around him. Handsome too. Your brother should feel honored that I considered the match at all.” Rhaegar felt suddenly offended by the Queen’s suggestion. The Stark girl was in deed a very desirable bride given all of her connections. Even if a northern bride for the prince had never been considerate, if Jon felt inclined to have the girl than the King would gladly negotiate the terms in his son’s favor. “I know it’s too soon to even consider the scenario, but if Jon ever demonstrate feelings for the Stark girl, I won’t have my son insulted or rejected.”

“I think this is the first time that I’ve witnessed you speaking of Jon like this.” Her voice was gentle and yet sad.

“Like what?” Rhaegar was confused for a second.

“As if you were really proud of him.” Lyanna said.

“I am proud of him. I have no reasons to feel differently.” He sat by her side on the mattress and held her hands gently. “Happiness isn’t something usual in this family. Your niece has the right name and all the connections we could hope to get. If our boy decides that his happiness is attached to her somehow, than I will gladly give my blessing and allow him to be happy.”

He suddenly felt Lyanna’s hand touching his face with gentleness. Her gray eyes looked at him not with dutiful subservience, but with fondness. Lyanna kissed his cheek as she had done when he offered her a way out of the marriage with Robert Baratheon.

Lyanna kissed his mouth not with obedience, but with affection and that was enough for him.

His agile fingers undid the knots of her gown and he removed her clothes before laying her down on his bed.

 

§§§§§§§§§

 

Lyanna closed her eyes once Rhaegar entered her in a sudden move. She bit her bottom lip to contain her protest as she felt the weight of his body on top of her. It felt like their first night.

He kissed her with passion as his hands worshiped every inch of her naked skin. His movements became more fluid as the Queen relaxed. Lyanna tried to remember how long it had been since he last summoned her to his bed, but she couldn’t say for sure. A year, maybe more.

At least that night didn’t feel much like a duty she had to perform. Not after Rhaegar being so open about how proud he was of their son and his sincere concern over Jon’s happiness. What else she could want from him if not Rhaegar to be a good father to their boy? She would do anything to make sure that Jon would be loved and happy. Laying with Rhaegar wasn’t even that difficult, but it wasn’t pleasurable either.

The King wasn’t satisfied with her lack of enthusiasm and when Rhaegar suddenly stopped moving Lyanna wondered if she had angered him somehow. His fingers reached for her cunt so he could touch that tinny sensitive spot. She could no longer feel him inside her, but the sensation didn’t last long. He had two fingers inside her while his thumb worked at that pleasurable spot.

A long moan escaped her mouth and that made the King grin with satisfaction. Rhaegar kissed her lips and then allowed his mouth to go down on her body until it replaced his thumb. His fingers kept moving in and out until she had tears in her eyes and no breath in her lungs.

Lyanna grabbed the covers of the bed as that mighty sensation became impossible for her to fight. It was wrong, wasn’t it? To get any sort of pleasure from the man that took everything from her. Her home, her family, her honor and innocence...Rhaegar had claimed everything and yet he gave her the most perfect and generous gift she had ever received. In a night like that he had planted his seed inside her and Jon was born a while later. That was enough for her to be forever grateful to that man.

She was still half numbed when Rhaegar entered her again and this time it felt slippery, fluid and delicious. Lyanna kissed his mouth fervently and after that Rhaegar didn’t last long. He was completely buried inside her when he came. Lyanna closed her eyes as she felt his hot seed filling her.

Rhaegar embraced her for a while in silence. That was a good thing. Soon he would be sleeping soundly and she would be able to go back to her room.

“I’ve missed you.” He confessed after a few minutes in utter quietness.

“You should sleep, my love.” She answered. “It will be a long day tomorrow and you’ll need to be rested.”

Rhaegar kissed her mouth again and held her tighter.

“I don’t feel like sleeping. I want you to stay for the night.” He said and Lyanna was surprise the fact that Rhaegar was already recovered. “I’m not done yet.”

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teenagers being silly while the players make their moves around them. I hope you like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


	3. Chapter 3

She had been shocked when the Prince stood in front of her to ask for the pleasure of a dance. Arya was aware that all the eyes inside the room were looking at them and her first instinct was to look at her father in search of guidance.

Her father had a sober face and it was evident that he didn’t approve of that a single bit, but he nod in agreement. She couldn’t say no to her cousin in front of the entire court anyway.

The song was a vibrant one, meant for twists, turns and little jumps. Arya wasn’t the greatest dancer of all times, but she managed to remember all the steps. The Prince’s hands would hold hers constantly as he conducted the dance. Eventually they were no longer alone in their dance and even the King and Queen joined them, making it a less awkward event.

“Now you can say that the Prince asked you for your first dance at court. Not even your perfect sister can say the same and I bet all the young men in court will be fighting each other for the next dance with you.” He said kindly. Actually, being kind and gentle was something natural to her cousin and that forced Arya to reconsider her previous notions about the royal family.

“You didn’t have to, but gods...She will be shocked when she learns of this.” Arya couldn’t help giggling at the idea and to her surprise the Prince was laughing with her.

“This will be our little secret then. You can tell her that I begged for a dance or whatever you feel that would make her envious. Just tell me the story so I can play along.” Jon said with humor and Arya noticed that after a bit of wine and chatting he had turned into another man entirely. He was funny and witty once he felt relaxed. That was a man she could call friend.

“I’m not sure that I should.” She said before her courtesy at the end of the dance. “I don’t want Father to have the wrong idea about this dance and we know this is a tricky business.”

“You are right.” Jon agreed politely. “I’m still planning to hunt tomorrow morning and I will talk to Lady Stark personally if I must. Your brothers will be there anyway so there’s no reason for it to be seen as something scandalous.”

“I’ll have my things ready then.” She said with a smile. “I think I should go back to my room. We’ve made enough people uncomfortable for a day.”

“Goodnight, cousin.” He bowed his head lightly and Arya repaid it with a courtesy.

“Goodnight, Your Highness.” She replied before leaving the room as fast as she could.

Arya went back to her room at the Maidens’ Vault and had her riding clothes ready for the morning. She had no idea if he would stay true to his promise, but she would play her part anyway. Suddenly their season at court didn’t seem so dull and uncomfortable as she had anticipated. Her cousin was proving to be way more funny than expected.

She had slept with the vain hope that the dance shared with Rhaegar’s son would be seen as nothing of consequence, but that notion had been crashed once her Father entered her room once the sun came out.

Arya was already dressed for a riding when her Father knocked at her door. Once he entered the room it was clear enough that she would receive a lecture.

“You look pretty.” He said in a gentle and yet concerned tone.

“Thank you.” She answered politely even if she was certain that the compliment had been made out of pity. Arya have never been known for her beauty.

“Your mother received a letter this morning.” Lord Stark said calmly. “A message from the Prince asking her for permission in your name for you to joying his hunting party along with your brothers. Judging by your clothes you were expecting it to happen.”

“He asked me if I liked the sport and I said yes, but I also told him that mother disapproved of it. Then he offered to talk to her personally so I could joying them.” Arya said with honesty. “I just wanted to have some fun. Robb and Bran can do anything they want, while I have to be stuck here with Alys and mother.”

Her Father looked at her with eyes full of concern and Arya could tell he hadn’t slept properly at night.

“The boy seems to be a good lad and I trust Lyanna raised him well.” Hi said soberly. “Even so, he is still Rhaegar’s son and you know that I have cause to worry. Eighteen years ago my sister captured the Targaryen Prince’s attention and it only brought sorrow to our family.”

“It was just a dance, Father. He just wanted to be kind to me and make me feel welcome.” Arya argued while hiding the fact that the dance had been nothing but a prank. “Besides...What else I could do? It’s not as if refusing him a dance in front of the whole court was an option. We can’t really say no to them, can we?”

“The Dragon’s Pit, a dance, now a hunt...We haven’t been here for a full day yet and the Prince already seems to be quite interested in making a good impression on you. If he lacks the good sense to recognize how vulnerable your position is, than you must reminded of it. I don’t want to hear the whole court naming you as his mistress.” Her Father lowered his head a bit as if the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders. “I tried to be the best father I could be to you and your siblings. My own father didn’t know how to raise a girl once my mother was gone. He sheltered Lyanna from the world and when he declared she would be married to Robert it was clear that soon it would turn into a perfect storm. I don’t want to make the same mistakes he made. You have never been South of the Neck and you should be able to enjoy the experience. Just keep in mind that now that Sansa is married, you will be the next.”

“I don’t want to marry.” She replied stubbornly.

“It won’t happen now, but in the near future we will have to find you a suitable husband.” Ned insisted. “I would never give my little girl to someone unworthy of you. When the time comes you can be sure that your husband will be kind and honorable, but for it to be possible you can’t have your reputation compromised because of a reckless prince.”

“If it was Sansa in my place, everyone would assume him to be in love with her already. I’m just plain Arya Horse Face. Not half as pretty as my sister and definitely far from being a beauty worthy of the Prince’s attention.” She said sadly. Her Father looked at her and cupped her cheek gently.

“Rhaegar didn’t lie when he said you look like your aunt. Lyanna was just like you both in looks and temper. Her face triggered a war and I don’t want you to have the same fate she had. I would have kept you in Winterfell and far from Targaryen eyes if I could, but your sympathy to the separatist cause made it impossible. Don’t make me regret my decision.”

 

§§§§§§§§§

 

He had just sent the servant away with his message to Lady Stark when the King’s presence was announced. Jon rose from his seat immediately to receive his father as protocol demanded. To his surprise, the Queen was nowhere to be seen.

The King’s face seemed to be relaxed and almost happy. Jon wondered if it was because negotiations with Lord Stark were progressing to the King’s content or if there was another reason for that sudden change of spirits.

“Ready for a hunt, I see.” The King said calmly. “Will your cousins joying the party?”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Jon lowered his face a bit.

“It’s just the two of us, Jon. There’s no need to keep the formalities.” His father said and for a second Jon wondered what happened for the King to be that attentive to his son.

“Yes, Father.” The Prince smiled.

“I wonder if Lady Arya will also take part in the game.” The King pointed and Jon realized that his little prank hadn’t pass by unnoticed.

“I invited her as well. It didn’t seem fair to not extend the invitation to her when both her brothers will attend.” Jon replied in a reasonable tone. “I told her that mother also enjoys it, so it shouldn’t be seen as something inappropriate for a court lady.”

“You did well.” The King said. “I would see nothing wrong about it, if I hadn’t seen you dancing last night.”

“That was nothing, Father. I just wanted to cheer her up a bit. She doesn’t seem to feel comfortable at court and I’m trying to be the best cousin I can be to Lord Stark’s children.” Jon tried to justify his behavior in a convincing way, but his father didn’t seem to believe.

“I’ll make you a question and I want you to be honest when you answer it.” The King said soberly. “Do you like the lady?” That was a bit shocking to hear.

“She is funny and I think we have some similar tastes, but that’s it.” Jon answered as fast as possible.

“I’m not talking about your inclination to become friends with her. I’m asking you if, by any chance, you feel attracted to her.” The King clarified and Jon didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t really thought about that. Not so directly at least.

“She is pretty, I think.” Jon said with caution. “She does have lovely eyes.” He whispered mindlessly, making the King smile.

“I’m well aware of how dangerous a lovely pair of eyes can be.” His father said it in an understanding tone. “I wasn’t joking when I said she looks like your mother at the same age. You know what I did and you know the consequences I had to face because of my poor judgment. I don’t regret marrying Lyanna, but I should have been wiser at the time. You and I don’t look much alike in the outside and this gave me hope that you would be smarter than I was.” The King sat on his son’s bed and looked at Jon with eyes full of concern. “I was never a very good father, but I suppose I still have time to correct a few things. You know that soon we will have to find you a suitable bride.”

“I know.” Jon agreed obediently. “I’ll accept your judgment on the matter.”

“Well...I accepted my father’s judgment about marriage when I was about your age. Things turned to be way more complicated than simply taking a pretty young lady to bed and call her wife.” Rhaegar said with honesty. “Elia was a good woman and she surely didn’t deserve all the suffering I inflicted on her. I don’t want to make the same mistakes my father made and I surely don’t want you to make the same mistakes I’ve made.”

“What should I think of this?” Jon questioned out of confusion.

“I suppose it’s still too soon for you to be sure about your feelings, but…If you come to the conclusion that Lady Arya can make you happy, I won’t oppose to a match. In fact, I’ll be more than happy to negotiate the terms with Lord Stark and give you my blessing. I would rather have this settled in a legitimate way instead to taking the risk of you being as stupid as I was.”

“Is it even possible?” Jon questioned carefully. “I mean...Lord Stark has just accepted our friendship and I doubt all the bitterness between our Houses has been forgotten. I don’t think he would ever agree with the suggestion.”

“Your mother said the same thing last night and I’ll tell you the same thing I told her.” Rhaegar said calmly. The King got back on his feet and stood in front of him. He held Jon’s shoulders delicately and smiled. “You are a handsome, strong, well educated and honorable young man. You have a kind nature and that alone would make you the best suitor any lady could ever get. Lady Arya has the right name and connections, so I can afford being indulgent in this particular arrangement. If you tell me that she can make you happy, I won’t have my son and heir rejected. Not even by Lord Stark.”

“Thank you, Father.” Jon had never heard the King talking like that. For the first time he felt as if he was Rhaegar true and legitimate son. An heir the King could be proud of.

“Don’t take long to make up your mind about this. Eddard won’t stay here forever and he might already have a name in mind to his daughter’s hand. We must be faster.”

 

§§§§§§§§§

 

The children had gone on a haunt through the King’s Wood and would be back by noon. Meanwhile Queen Lyanna would take the time to rest a bit and later invite her sister-in-law to the solar. She never had much in common with Catelyn when they were young, but motherhood should provide them with common ground.

The Queen would try to not envy Lady Stark’s luck for the day. Five living children, all of them healthy, while Lyanna had only managed to give birth to one precious boy. _Maybe last night will make things different._

Rhaegar had been insatiable like she had never seen before. He didn’t let her sleep at all until the sun was almost rising. When the King finally settled his appetite, Lyanna allowed him to hold her in his arms and they slept like that.

When she woke up Rhaegar was already gone. She remained in bed a while longer, feeling her legs soared. Soon a couple of servants came to tend to her needs and in a couple of hours the Queen was clean and ready to conduct her other duties.

Lady Stark entered the solar and Lyanna noticed that Cat had changed her usual clothes for a lighter dress in Southern fashion. That too they had in common. Both of them had been taken off their natural environment by marriage and the capitol was a scary place to a girl of Winterfell, just like the North must have been to Catelyn.

“Thank you for coming.” Lyanna said to her sister-in-law while pointing to a seat close to her. “Have a seat, please.”

“I’m most honored by the invitation, Your Grace.” Catelyn replied with her usual elegance.

“You are my sister by marriage, there’s no need for formalities between us.” Lyanna tried to sound as friendly as possible, even if there was nothing slightly comfortable about the whole situation between their families. Catelyn sat by the Queen’s side. “How do you find your chambers? Do you need anything at all?”

“Everything is perfect. We have all the comfort we could wish for.” Catelyn answered.

“I understand that you are the one I must thank in all this. Ned told me you convinced him to accept the invitation.” Lyanna said with honesty. “I’m mostly grateful to your intervention.”

“I only did what a good wife should do. I’ve witnessed my husband’s suffering after the war and how much it pained him to keep a distance from his sister. It was about time for someone to put some sense into his head.” Catelyn’s voice was amiable and understanding. “I know how it feels to be far from our family. I’ve seen Lysa only once after we married and I don’t even know how Edmund looks like now a day.”

“Both of them have been invited to the celebration. It shall be a happy family reunion.” Lyanna added.

“In deed.” Cat agreed with a discreet smile.

“I believe your children are enjoying the capitol, aren’t they?” Lyanna asked carefully. If Rhaegar’s idea proved to be true, it would be for the best to know Catelyn’s thoughts on the matter. It would be even better if Lyanna managed to get her as an ally.

“I believe so. They haven’t seem much of the country and it’s the first time they crossed the Neck.” Lady Stark said. “The Prince seems to enjoy spending time with them.”

“Jon was thrilled with the idea of having his cousins here.” The Queen said with honesty. “Since Daenerys went to the Stormlands, my son doesn’t have much company. The Red Keep can be a very lonely place, especially for someone as young as Jon. I wish I have had more children so he would know how it feels to be part of a big family.”

“Ned was devastated every time he received news of your miscarriages.” Catelyn looked at her with pity. “I can’t imagine how terrible it must have been. You are still young though. There’s still time.”

“Indeed.” Lyanna agreed. “I would love to have a daughter to keep me company. Soon Jon will be too committed to the Throne to have time for me.”

“Daughters are truly a blessing to us mothers. Sansa have always been such a sweet and talented girl. I miss her dearly.” Catelyn pointed.

“What about your second daughter? Ned told me wonders about Arya.” Lyanna questioned.

“Arya is a good child, but at times I thing that her only pleasure in life is to cross me.” Lady Stark said. “She is fierce and clever, but she has a rebellious nature. Ned surely didn’t help me a single bit with her. He have always granted her every wish and now we must face the consequences.”

“It can’t be that bad. Besides a bit of rebellion is good. It help us to grow wiser with time.” Lyanna said in her niece’s defense.

“I would rather have my daughter silly, obedient and happy. I don’t think Arya will ever be any of these.”

“Maybe a season in court will help her. I’ve told Ned that I would like to get to know my niece better. Would you oppose to the idea of allowing Arya to stay with us for a while? I would love to have some company.”

“In another time the suggestion would have made me quite happy. Now I’m not so sure.” Catelyn answered carefully. “After yesterday and the Prince’s bold behavior, I’m not sure if it would be wise of me to agree with your request.”

“Jon is a good boy.” Lyanna insisted. “You and Ned have all the reasons to be suspicious and careful while in the capitol, but wouldn’t it be for the best for us to put the past behind and focus in the future?”

“I’m not sure if I understand, Your Grace.” Catelyn replied with caution and distrust.

“With all this talking about separatism in the North and your children’s marriages...It feels like the North is breaking faith with the crown and the King is worried.” Catelyn’s face turned pale as a piece of parchment. “I know that this is an absurd thought, but the kingdom must be reassured of our lasting friendship with House Stark. We are family after all. Your son is to become Lord Stark one day and I hope Jon will have in him a true friend as cousins should be. We can no longer get Robb a suitable bride, but something can still be done about Brandon and Rickon. Wealthy brides, titles and land...As younger sons they would hardly have the chance to aim so high, but I can help them in this.”

“I don’t see where Arya fits in the picture.” Catelyn replied.

“For now I would love to have my niece as my lady-in-waiting. In the future we can think about an adequate suitor to her hand. That is...If my son proves you to be wrong about his intentions toward the girl.” Lyanna said graciously. “If you are right though...Your daughter will become a royal princess and I’ll make sure she will be prepared to become queen one day.”

“You should talk with my husband about this, but I doubt he will ever agree with such a thing.” Catelyn’s voice was nervous and shaky.

“That’s why I’m talking to you instead, sister.” Lyanna smiled at Lady Stark gracefully. “You are a reasonable women, with a pragmatic mind. We are both mothers and we would do anything for the sake of our children’s happiness. I raised my son to be generous, carrying and honorable. My brother’s beloved daughter would never find a better man.”

“What if he proves to me more like his father? I don’t want my daughter to be humiliated or dishonored.” Catelyn lowered her head in shame and anger.

“Let me clarify something to you.” The Queen replied with dignity. “Rhaegar never took me against my will. If he took me to Dorne with him was because I begged for a way out of a marriage to Robert. I brought the dishonor, humiliation and tragedy upon myself by accepting Rhaegar’s offer and I’ll pay for it for the rest of my life. It’s not fair to punish Jon for my mistakes.”

 

§§§§§§§§§§§

 

After the brief conversation with the King it felt like Prince Jon have had his eyes opened for the first time.

Until that morning he had been just trying to befriend all of Lord Stark’s children. He wanted to prove to his uncle that, even if he was Rhaegar’s son, he was honorable and trustworthy. Never once the idea of looking at Lady Arya with the eyes of a man had crossed him mind. At least not explicitly.

When he first laid eyes on her, Prince Jon thought her to be just another girl in court. Then he saw her eyes so full of excitement and he realized that she had a certain charm. During the banquet they had talked with each other and Arya proved to be the most pleasant company. The dance had been just his way of trying to make her feel better about her own insecurities.

Nothing of that could have been named as interest, at least not like his father had mentioned. Once the King suggested that Jon would have his father’s complete support if he decided to have his cousin for a bride, the Prince suddenly couldn’t think about anything else.

It was if Arya had been painted in red and he was actually looking at her for the first time.

She was a terrific amazon and a very decent hunter. Jon had been paying attention to her conversation with Bran and how they were sure that Lady Sansa would arrive on the following day. That didn’t seem to be a perspective that pleased any of them.

“I honestly hope she isn’t with child already.” Arya mentioned to Bran once Robb was no longer near to listen to them.

“Why is that?” Jon asked in a rather snoopy way just to have the chance of talking to Arya.

“It would be very cruel to Alys and Robb if that happened.” Arya said. “You see...They have been married for almost a year now and so far there wasn’t even a false alarm. I know Alys goes daily to the godswood to pray for a baby. Boy or girl, I doubt she would make a difference as long as she could prove to be able of giving my brother a child.”

“I think she is worrying over nothing.” Bran said as a matter of fact. “Mother says these things can take time and there’s no way of predicting when it will happen.”

“You say that because it isn’t your wife.” Arya insisted. “If Sansa is already with child...It will make things even harder for them.”

“Do you think anything can be done to help them?” Jon asked as he felt really sorry for Robb and his wife. He had witnessed first hand the struggle his own mother had been through when she suffered the miscarriages. At least she had one living son to ease her mind.

“I don’t think so. Perhaps not feeling all the pressure around them could help.” Arya suggested. “I hope the change of airs will help them.”

Jon considered what she said for a second. Every time his mother had lost a baby they had traveled to Dragonstone so the Queen would be spared of all the gossip that would follow.

“Do you think they would appreciate having some time out of court and out of Winterfell?” He questioned.

“I think so. If I were in Alys’ place I wouldn’t want to be near my mother just to be remembered that Robb was born nine months after my parents wedding.” Arya said.

“They can go to Dragonstone.” Jon said in an amiable tone. “I’ll talk to him and suggest it later. It’s my own household and they can have it for a few days if they want to. It’s quiet and comfortable. No one to disturb them and the island is quite charming.”

“Even if it doesn’t work, I’m sure they will like to be away from us for a while.” Bran agreed.

“Then it’s decided.” The Prince said. “Once they have sailed I’ll have a hundred candles burning at the Mother’s and Father’s altar at the Great Sept.”

“You know that we don’t worship the Seven, don’t you?” Arya questioned in a teasing way.

“I’ll also say may prays at the godswood. You are more than welcome to joying me if you want.” Jon replied to her with a smile. For a second the idea that one day he might do the same again so the gods would allow Lady Arya to bare him children stroke the Prince like a punch.

“I suppose praying isn’t something that will bother my parents. We can all go to the Sept and the godswood. Then you can show us the Dragon’s Pit as you have promised.”

Her acceptance made him suddenly joyous and confident. Was it really possible that the King had recognized Jon’s feelings before the Prince himself, or were those feelings just a consequence of the suggestion? Any way, when Lady Arya’s lips curved in a teasing smile, Jon could no longer think of anything he could want more than to kiss that mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jon "I'm a nice guy. I'm not hitting on you." Targaryen should never underestimate the power of suggestion, while Ned should know better than to forbid Arya of doing anything. XD  
> I hope you'll like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

Her father’s warning about the Prince’s intentions toward her had sounded absurd. Even when they were riding through the King’s Wood, Arya couldn’t seen in his behavior any trace of unusual favoritism. Prince Jon talked to both Brandon and Robb as much as he talked to her. His ever solicit nature seemed to be the only thing that would never fail to impress her.

Arya had been thankful for his intentions of helping Robb and his wife to get a few days of peace out of court. Once the tournament was over the couple would sail to Dragonstone and have some time to rest and enjoy each other’s company without anyone around to disturb them. Jon had been even kinder when he said he would have a hundred candles burning at the Great Sept for her brother and sister-in-law.

Nothing in him seemed to be threatening and her father’s concerned sound more and more absurd as Arya got to know the Prince better. If Rhaegar had been a cruel monster in his youth, the son seemed to bare nothing of his sire in him.

The following days would have been smooth and uneventful if it wasn’t for the Queen’s sudden invitation. Arya had been summoned to joying her aunt for some sweets at the gardens and Lady Stark couldn’t talk about anything else but how Arya should behave.

It was a hot day at the capitol and her mother had insisted on dressing her with a light lilac dress made of delicate silk in the Southern fashion. Lady Stark would have had Arya’s hair combed and braided like the ladies of the court used to wear, but the daughter refused.

“The Queen is curious about her niece and I hope you’ll behave like a proper lady.” Her mother said before checking Arya’s hair one last time. “Mind your courtesies and try to not speak everything that comes to your mind.”

“I don’t understand what this is all about.” Arya said. “I’m hardly a good company to the Queen.”

“It’s not for us to question your aunt’s desire. Remember that your Father needs us to ease the tensions between the royal family and our House.” Cat said before kissing her check. “Lyanna has no daughters and little to no ladies to keep her company. Be kind to her for your Father’s sake yours. You look lovely.”

Arya went straight to the gardens of the Red Keep with an unshakable feeling that something about that invitation was off. Surely her father had told her how much the Queen was eager to make her acquaintance properly, but Arya had no idea why should her aunt feel like that.

Maybe her mother was right. Lyanna had been an outsider inside the Red Keep most of her life and she had no daughters or granddaughters to bright up her days and keep her company. It couldn’t be so terrible to indulge her aunt with a bit of talking and company.

Arya found the Queen seating a small circular table placed under a magnificent tree. The Queen’s hair had been combed in the same way Arya favored and Lyanna looked exquisite in her melancholic beauty.

“There you are.” The Queen said once Arya approached the table. “You look lovely, my dear niece.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Arya bowed as protocol demanded. “I’m most honored to be invited.”

“I should have summoned you sooner. Please, call me aunt. There’s little that would make my heart happier than to have my brother’s daughter calling me so. Have a seat, my dear.”

“As you wish, aunt.” Arya replied before taking her place by the Queen’s side.

“I asked the cook for some treats and tea. Do you like lemon cakes?” The Queen asked.

“I do, but not as much as my sister.” Arya said shyly and Lyanna smiled at her.

“I love lemon cakes, but I only started to favor them when I moved to the capitol. When I was your age and Winterfell was my home, there was nothing I liked better than berry tarts.” Lyanna said with a fond smile.

“I love berry tarts.” Arya said with enthusiasm.

“How fortunate that I asked for them too.” Lyanna smiled at her before offering the tarts to Arya. “I used to sneak at the kitchens and have my pockets stuffed with them. I would always have one before dinner and three before I went to bed. Father never understood why the maids always complained about crumbs on my bed.”

“I do the same, only that I can’t save any to fill by stomach before I go to bed. I have them all at once.” Arya confessed, making the Queen laugh.

“No one could blame you for this. Nothing tastes better than northern berries. The King have them brought here from White Harbor. Those from the Reach and the capitol are too sweet for my taste.” Lyanna’s voice was amiable and kind as she looked at Arya biting her tart. “Are you enjoying court or does it feel too scary?”

“It was scary at first, now it doesn’t feel so. I don’t like the smell here, but it’s everything so different from home and also so thrilling.” Arya answered. “I haven’t been out of the Red Keep yet, but I’m planning to visit the Great Sept and the Dragon’s Pit soon.”

“My son offered to escort you to the Pit, haven’t he?” The Queen asked with a smile.

“Yes, aunt.” She answered slightly embarrassed. “I’m not sure the Prince will be able to, and I don’t want to bother him with these silly things.”

“It will do him well to be negligent of his duties for a couple of days. Jon rarely gets the chance of having some fun and he is delighted to have cousins near.” The Queen insisted. “Have you ever been to a tournament?”

“No. Not really.” Arya answered. “I’ve always wanted to. Is it true what Father said? Did you compete as a mystery knight?”

“Guilty.” Lyanna laughed. “Of course Ned might have made it sound way more exciting that it really was.”

“He said you won the day and grandfather Rickard was furious once you got back to the pavilion.” Arya’s voice at that point was full of wonderment.

“Now that you said it, I think I was really good back them.” Lyanna laughed even harder. “I used to play with Benjen in the godswood. We used sticks as swords and gods...Poor Benjen got some nasty bruises from me.”

“I used o do the same with Bran, but I was always merciful with him. Never got him bruised. At least not where mother could see.” Arya grinned.

“Now that I think about it, I’ve been so reckless at that tournament.” The Queen said. “Now that Jon will compete I can understand why Father was so worried.”

“Robb wants to compete, but Alys is trying to change his mind about it. Bran would do anything to take a part in it, but I doubt mother will ever allow him to get anywhere near a sword or spear.” Arya replied.

“Catelyn is a wise woman. What about you? Would you like to compete as well?” Lyanna’s voice was understanding and a bit teasing.

“I would do better than Bran, if given the chance.” Arya’s answer would have embarrassed her mother, but the Queen didn’t seem to be shocked or scandalized in the slightest.

“Jon told me you enjoyed watching the knights training. Have you been able to watch them closer?”

“No. Not yet. I wanted to see uncle Benjen, but so far he seems to be busy with duties out of town.” Arya said. “Father says he is a great knight.”

“Indeed he is. The King had him sent to supervise the security and instruct the City Guard before the tournament starts. We can never be neglectful of these things and Ben is a very cautious man. I wanted him for Jon’s sworn shield, but the King gave the honor to Ser Arthur Dayne. Not that this is a bad thing. Dayne is the greatest swordsman that I’ve ever seen, but I would prefer to have Jon cared by someone of the family.”

“I suppose Father would think the same in your place.” Arya agreed in a kind tone.

“Having my family near is something I’ve been wishing since my son was born.” The Queen’s voice was suddenly a sad one. “I’m sure you know about what happened after Harrenhall and how I became Rhaegar’s wife.”

“Indeed. Father would avoid the topic as much as possible. I was a painful subject to him.” Arya replied with her head low.

“It’s painful to all of us.” The Queen added. “Now that Ned accepted my invitation and we are finally reunited, I would like to have our bond somewhat restored. I would like to be connected with my family again, do you understand?”

“I believe I would feel the same in your place.” Arya tried to be sympathetic, although she refused to believe that she would ever allow herself to become a victim as the Queen had been.

“I’ve been talking to the King about it and His Grace is willing to attend my request if you agree with it.” Lyanna smiled at her fondly. “Would you like to stay at the capitol for a while longer? You could be my lady-in-waiting.”

“I don’t think Father would agree with it.” Her voice came out shocked and low. For a second she couldn’t understand what was going on, but Arya was sure that her family would never allow her to get any closer to the royal family.

“Ned can be persuaded. It’s you who must decide.” The Queen assured her. “It is a great opportunity to a young lady like you, but I’ll understand if you don’t want.”

“I will need some time to think about it.” Arya insisted.

“Think about what?” A third voice said.

Arya turned her head to look at the Prince.

Jon approached them with a smile on his face. Judging by his looks he had been practicing for the tournament. He walked toward his mother and kissed her forehead with affection before looking back at Arya.

“I was trying to convince your cousin to stay with us for a while.” The Queen said to her son. “I think she would be perfect to keep me company.”

“That would be splendid!” He said with enthusiasm. “I wouldn’t feel so guilty when I couldn’t spend some time with you and I’m sure my dear cousin would be a better company than I am anyway.”

“We still have to talk to Lord Stark about it, but I’m sure Ned can be persuaded if Arya agrees with the arrangement.” The Queen looked back at her with determination in her eyes, although her smile was a sweet one. “Why don’t you joying us for some treats, my love? I had berry tarts prepared for us and I know how much you love them.”

“I don’t think I can refuse. I’m starving!” Jon said before taking the seat by his mother. “I’m sorry about my clothes and smell. I haven’t had time for a proper cleaning. I hope I won’t ruin your appetites.”

“Have you invited your cousin to watch your training for the joust? I think she would like to see you and Dayne practicing.” The Queen suggested to her son and Arya could feel her own cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“I don’t think you will be much impressed by my skills, but Ser Arthur is certainly worthy of your time, if you appreciate sword fighting, cousin.” He smiled at her in a way that made Arya’s heart beat faster.

“You are being modest.” The Queen replied to him. “Dayne won’t stop talking about your abilities whenever given the chance.”

“Not as good as Lord Stark, I’m afraid.” Jon contradicted his mother before looking back at Arya. “Ser Arthur still thinks your father to be the best swordsman he ever met. I can’t hope to be half as good, but feel welcome to come and laugh at me whenever you want, dear cousin.”

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

He couldn’t tell for sure if that had been the cruelest or the sweetest afternoon he had ever lived. The Queen seemed to have planned the moment to perfection by having him summoned to the garden when she was already in the company of Lady Arya.

To see his cousin without any members of her family to keep monitoring every move they made around each other felt like a blessing, but for a while he could only think about how dirty and smelly he was after hours training.

The fact that his mother was considering to have Lady Arya as one of her maids was even more shocking. That meant she would live in court for a while and she would be under the Queen’s tutelage. Jon would be able to see her every day and Lord Stark wouldn’t be near to look at him as if the Prince was Rhaegar reborn. That also meant that Arya would only marry someone if both the King and Queen granted their permission.

For hours they talked about everything and his mother seemed delighted to be there, enjoying their company and laughing as Jon have never seen before. That was something he could get used to. Those pleasant moments surrounded by his beloved mother and dearest cousin.

The King’s promise came back to his mind as he noticed how Arya picked blackberries from her tart and them licked the juice from her fingers mindlessly. He only had to say the word and she would be his.

Was that the taste of power? What it truly meant to be a prince? Jon couldn’t tell for sure. His mother had raised him to be humble and careful of others feelings. To simply point at a woman and demand her attention never felt like an option and yet...The King himself had honored his son with that particular gift.

Jon could be a tyrant if so he wanted, but the memory of Arya’s words during the banquet kept him honorable. _“I thought you would be a spoiled brat. A little tyrant used to have your way around every time. I expected even some cruelty from your part, but Your Highness is quite a decent person.”_ Those words made him want to be the person Arya believed he was. Not Lyanna’s son, nor Rhaegar’s heir. Only a decent man named Jon.

Arya went back to the Maidens’ Vault when the sun disappeared in the horizon. He wouldn’t be able to see her again until the next day, but that thought didn’t agree with him. Before she could leave, he invited her and her siblings to joying him for supper at his apartment. Lady Arya nod in agreements and told she would inform her brothers and sister-in-law.

“You seem to be quite taken by your _dear cousin_.” He was brought back to reality by his mother’s sarcastic tone.

“I’m just try...” Before Jon could conclude his mother cut him.

“Trying to be a good cousin as we told you to.” She completed. “There is a great difference between being a good cousin and making a real effort to impress a girl you find pretty.”

“It’s not like that, mother.” He replied sadly. “I just appreciate her company.”

“So do I.” The Queen said. “I really like my niece and I think she could make a wonderful life companion to my dear son. I believe your father talked to you about this.”

“He did.” Jon agreed awkwardly.

“What do you think of it?” His mother asked. “You know nothing has been decided yet. Plans can still be changed, but wouldn’t it be good to have a say in who will be your bride? It’s a luxury rarely given to someone of royal or noble blood.”

“It would be great.” Jon answered.

“Don’t even waste your time trying to convince me that you are not interested in her.” The Queen smiled at him indulgently. “What is it that is holding you back? You know it would only take a word from you and we would go to Eddard immediately.”

“She believes me to be a decent person. That’s what is holding me back.” Jon confessed. “At first I haven’t noticed her as a desirable woman. She was just my cousin and I liked to spend time with her. After talking to Father, I...I noticed that she was more than that, or at least could be more than that. Arya confessed me that she had expected me to be a spoiled brat and even a cruel tyrant used to have everything my way, but she was surprised to see that I am a decent person. I wonder if she will still think of me as such if I force her to stand in the same position you stood once.” He took a deep breath as he tried to cope with his own dilemmas and frustrations. “If choosing Arya is to make her to suffer like you have suffered, than I would rather not chose her at all.”

He felt his mother’s touch on his cheek and turned to face the Queen properly. She was smiling although she had tears in her eyes.

“Gods...I raised you well, haven’t I?” She said. “You want your bride to be happy about the life the two of you will have together and this is the noblest feeling one could have. Let me just make somethings clear. She is not me and you are not your father. Neither of you has been promised to anyone yet and so far everything has been done according to moral and tradition. If you are to be married to Arya, we will have everything done by law and without kidnappings. If what truly worries you is the idea that she might not feel for you what you feel for her, than you can only do one thing about it.”

“What?” He questioned suddenly.

“You can do the courtship to her and hope that she will accept you. Do you really think I have always be unhappy with your father? Do you think there wasn’t a time in which I could think of nothing else but his eyes and his voice? I may have led you to believe that I wouldn’t be exactly where I am by choice, but...When I was her age and saw your father for the first time the only thing I wanted was for Robert to be more like Rhaegar so I could come to love him. My tragedy has nothing to do with my lack of love for Rhaegar, but with the consequences I had to face because of this love. You won’t trigger a war for loving Arya. Not if we do everything by the rules.”

“Do you think she would have me?” Jon asked cautiously.

“She could hardly find a more worthy man than you, but if you want to know how to proceed...I’ve been informed that she likes wild flowers.” The Queen smiled at him. “Just promise one thing. If you win the lists, don’t crown her Queen of Love and Beauty in front of the whole court. If you are to revel your feelings and intentions, don’t put her in a position that will give her no choices and don’t do it in a way that could embarrass your uncle.”

 

§§§§§§§§§

 

The godswood inside the Red Keep had been nearly abandoned, but since he married Lyanna the King had it revitalized. That had soon become the Queen’s favorite place inside the palace and even their son enjoyed spending time there whenever Jon needed to think quietly. It only felt right that his first conversation with Lord Stark after so many years would be in front of the old gods.

Eddard still had no reason to either like or trust Rhaegar, but as long as Jon and Lyanna existed the King would be attached to Lord Stark. That was a thought that frustrated both men, but at least Rhaegar bared for Lord Eddard a great deal of admiration.

Lord Stark had done what Rhaegar could not. He had defied Aerys and fought for his father and brother in a way that Rhaegar couldn’t do to protect Elia and their children. She had been a good woman and he was fond of her company. Even if he had dishonored her by taking a mistress, Rhaegar never wished for the dornish princess’ death.

Love often had a costly price for those born into royalty and his family had enough cases of tragedies moved by such a noble feeling to prove that to be true. Not even once Rhaegar had considered what would be of his only living child once the time to chose Jon a bride came.

Since the boy had displayed some interest in Lord Stark’s youngest daughter, Rhaegar couldn’t stop thinking of everything that alliance could entail. Lord Rickard, had carefully crafted a number of important alliances via marriage, a plan supported by Lord Arryn and Lord Tully. Robert Baratheon would have been another clever move, if Rhaegar hadn’t frustrated that plan.

With Viserys married to Arianne and Daenerys to Renly, most of the conflicts in Westeros seemed to be somewhat pacified. A marriage between Rhaegar’s heir, to Lord Stark’s daughter would stabilize the rest of the country if Eddard proved to be a reasonable man.

“Your Grace.” Lord Stark’s voice called and Rhaegar turned to face his brother-in-law properly.

“Thank you for coming.” Rhaegar said. “I believe that at this point my lord feels rested and somewhat more comfortable in our presence.”

“Hardly, but a man must do what it’s best for his family.” Lord Stark said soberly. “I also know that all the rumors of separatism in the North might be worrying Your Grace. As Warden of the North is my responsibility to report about it.”

“You don’t strike me as a man who seeks power for yourself. I would be more concerned if I knew nothing of your honor and loyalty. We might not be close nor friends, despite Lyanna’s best efforts, but I trust you enough to not believe that you have any involvement in it.” The King replied. “The rumors are worrisome indeed and the fact that you had two of your children married off without consulting us is at least curious.”

“I already told my reasons to agree with those marriages. Traditionally we keep the matches to the North and Robb’s wife is daughter to a valuable banner. As for Sansa...I couldn’t say no to Willas Tyrell. He is everything Sansa ever wanted. Also a good man that venerates the air in her lungs. A father can’t ask for more.”

“Indeed.” Rhaegar agreed. “In the future though, you are to consult us in such matters. You are connected to the royal family liking it or not. Your actions reflect on us directly. In which concerns the separatists...I want this little rebellion to end before it even starts. Find the leaders and make an example of them or else I’ll be forced to take matters into my hands.”

“With all due respect...The only one to gain directly from such a rebellion, if there is a rebellion at all, would be me. I’ve never craved for power. I’ve never asked for favors from Your Grace even when my own sister seats by your side as your queen. Why would I change so drastically?”

“Not you, but one of your children might. Robb is to become the next Lord Stark and although I haven’t noticed in him any traces of treachery, it is my duty to be careful.” Rhaegar suggested.

“My son has nothing to do with it.” Ned replied sharply.

“And I believe his marriage to the Karstark girl was meant to keep him out of trouble. He seems to be fond of her and she seems to have some control over him. That’s a good thing. Marriages are important for several reasons. Blood connections is only one of them.”

“Does this conversation has a point at all?” Ned questioned bitterly.

“I still want the leaders eliminated.” Rhaegar insisted. “Other than that, I also want to talk about possibilities. There’s very little I wouldn’t grant to my Queen if it would make her happy. She have always wanted a daughter, but the gods thought it would be for the best for us to have only one son. Lyanna wants Lady Arya for her lady-in-waiting. Your daughter would be safe and cared for. Her marriages prospects would be vast and it would allow our Houses to reconciliate for good.”

“I don’t think I’m ready to let go of her just yet.” Eddard answered calmly. “I know my sister to be a lonely woman in court, but I don’t think Arya is the solution.”

“So she isn’t promised to anyone yet. There are no obstacles to it.” The King concluded. “My Queen wishes to look after you daughter. Lyanna is a generous woman and I don’t see why shouldn’t Lady Arya benefit from the Queen’s generosity. Any other girl in the land would be delighted to have the chance.”

“My daughter has everything she might want at home. Her name alone is enough to guarantee plenty of good suitors.” Eddard replied bitterly. Rhaegar took a deep breath in order to sooth his temper.

“I’ve never seen my wife as happy as she is now thanks to your sudden change of heart. I would like to keep it this way and I’ll do what I must to see Lyanna smiling again.” Rhaegar insisted. “I really don’t know why would you oppose to it when it’s perfectly clear how advantageous this deal would be. I’m ready to grant you many privileges. I’ll secure the future of all your children if you are to agree with me in this.”

“Your Grace talks about it as if I could trade my daughter to favor my sons. We both know this is not about Lyanna getting some female company. It’s about leaving Arya available and close enough for the prince to have whatever he wants from her.”

“Your said honor often fogs your judgment, doesn’t it? You speak as if Lord Tully hadn’t trade his daughters so you could get the Riverlands and the Vale, or as if Lord Rickard hadn’t done the same to Lyanna the day he promised her to your friend. This is our world, Eddard. This is how it works and for now what I’m offering to your daughter is a highly respectable position in my household and several benefits to your sons.” Rhaegar’s tone was soft, but there was a distinct trace of steel underneath. “If my son were to show any kind of interest to your little girl, he would still be free to wed her and make her a princess as propriety and honor demand. Had Robert lived, I wonder if you would be so resistant to a similar arrangement. Would you really think twice before selling your daughter to one of his sons or this is all about the idea you have of me?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess it's safe to say that Jon is the sanest Targaryen ever born. Poor boy just want his crush to be his girlfriend and is probably the only one worried about Arya's feelings in this. I particularly like that Rhaegar is calling Ned in his bullshit. I hope you'll like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


	5. Chapter 5

Sansa arrived with her husband a day before the tournament and for a couple of days the whole family would be reunited. Arya didn’t really appreciate it, especially when Sansa had always reminded her of how insufficient Arya was as a sister and a woman.

As expected, it didn’t take long for Sansa to learn about the dance and how attentive to Arya the Prince was. Robb and Bran didn’t seem to see anything wrong with the way Jon behaved toward her, but Sansa surely had a very different opinion. Their cousin was the Prince after all. Young, somewhat handsome and strong, while Willas – kind and clever as he was – had twice Sansa’s age and a crippled leg. It would be a surprise if Lady Tyrell wasn’t jealous at that point.

Arya liked Willas very much and could even agree that Sansa could hardly find someone capable of granting her all of her dreams like he could. He was a good man and a loving husband to her, but a world in which Arya could possibly do better than her sister was not one Sansa was ready to accept.

Alys probably felt the same about Lady Tyrell. She had spent long hours alone in her room crying once Sansa reveled to be with child already. Arya wished she could do something to cheer up Robb’s wife and in this the Queen proved to be more than eager to help.

Queen Lyanna was a generous woman and she surely had sympathy to Alys’ cause given her own problems to bare more children. They had spent some time riding through the woods and having picnics. Eventually they would have some music during lunch. Slowly Alys’s spirit improved and Arya was thankful for the fact that Sansa had been occupied with her husband’s family most of the time.

Nothing could be perfect though, and it didn’t take long for Sansa to speak up her mind about Arya’s silly interactions with their cousin.

“I know you take a wicked pleasure in being rebellious, but what you are doing could shame us all.” Sansa said without moving her eyes away from her embroidery. “Everyone is talking about the dance and how you don’t care at all about how your actions could affect us. Hunting with him, being invited to private dinners and other things.”

“It was just one dance. In my place you would have accepted it too.” Arya replied angrily. “It seems that you actually thing that I’ve been with him alone in all these occasions. Robb, Bran or the Queen are always near and so far Jon has been nothing but gentle to me.”

“Jon?! You dare refer to the Prince in such friendly terms?!” Sansa finally looked at her scandalized.

“It’s his name, isn’t it? Our royal cousin is way more decent than we could have expected.” Arya replied. “He doesn’t have a single trace of the King in him and so far he has been a good friend.”

“There’s no such a thing as friendship between men and women. You are being foolish to think otherwise.” Sansa replied bitterly. “You are just embarrassing yourself.”

“Am I?” Arya defied. “You are acting as if I were deliberately trying to seduce the man. I don’t care about how my actions affect our family; I am being foolish; I am embarrassing myself...It must really infuriate you to think that for once someone is looking at me and not at you. It must be even worst to consider that somehow the Prince likes my company while you are stuck in Highgarden with a cripple husband when we all know it’s Loras who you wanted.”

“You are a devious creature!” Sansa snapped back.

“I still remember when we were children.” Arya replied sadly. “We were playing and you got angry at me for some reason. You said that one day you would marry a prince or a High Lord and the best thing I could hope to get was an ugly, harry and stupid man like me. I guess now you are suddenly afraid that it might be the other way around and you can’t stand the idea.”

Arya didn’t wait for an answer. She left the room and her sister behind while trying to contain her tears. It was unfair that she would always be the wrong one even when she was actually trying to do the right thing and not hurt their father.

All those episodes had been just an innocent past time and Jon had proved to be time and time again an example of good behavior. They had things in common and Arya assumed she was a good enough company to deserve being invited to all the events her brothers were to attend. Even the dance, as scandalous as it could seem, had been just Jon trying to give her something to feel good about. She had wished to be as good a lady as Sansa even if just for a second. Pretend to be a lady from a song and have the attentions of a Prince. Jon offered her the chance and played along with her, but Arya came to regret their little secret.

Arya’s feet led her to the courtyard where she hoped to find at least a playing sword to hit something. In Winterfell, whenever she felt distressed or sad she would get Bran’s sword and hit a tree for a couple of minutes, pretending it was a mighty enemy. That had always managed to ease her frustrations, but at court it was almost impossible to get that sort of relief.

The knights and servants there looked at her as if she had two heads. Arya was aware she wasn’t supposed to be there, but the idea of staying inside the Keep was too much for her to bare.

“Cousin!” She heard the distinct male voice calling from a distance. Arya turned around just to see Jon approaching her with his own sword in hand as another man followed him from a close distance.

Arya tried to dry her eyes before he could notice that she had been crying, but that seemed to be possible.

“Are you all right?” He asked once he could take a close look at her face. “What happened?”

“Nothing.” She said. “I’m fine, really.”

“I’ve been around my lady mother enough to know when a woman has been crying.” He said almost in a whisper. “What is it that upsets you? Do tell me and I shall have this monstrous person’s head for it.”

“I would hardly be worthy the effort. It’s just Sansa being her usual self.” Arya replied miserably. “It seems that I’ll never do anything right. No matter what I do, I’ll always be the wrong one or the one to be blamed.”

“Why coming to the courtyard? Wouldn’t it be better to find another person to talk? Maybe a walk through the gardens? I’m sure Mother would be delighted to receive a visit from you.” He suggested kindly.

“How little you know me.” She said with a bit of sarcasm. “I would rather exercise. Do something that would leave me exhausted so I can’t really thing of anything else.”

“Than this is yet another thing we have in common. Whenever I’m upset, I go training or riding. Does it sounds a good option?” His voice was kind and carrying as usual.

“Perfect.” She agreed.

“Ser Arthur, would you fetch us the training swords?” The Prince asked to the man who seemed to be following him. “My dear cousin wants to show me some moves.”

“Aye, I can. I’m not sure if it’s a wise idea.” Ser Dayne answered with a bit of a frown. “One of you might get hurt.”

“I guess I’m able enough to not harm a lady.” Jon seemed slightly annoyed by the knight’s suggestion.

“I wasn’t talking about her.” Arya muffled a laugh, while Jon looked at the man as if Dayne had said the most ridiculous thing. “I’ll get the swords.”

Dayne went to the armory and came back shortly after with two practice swords in hand. He handled one to the Prince and one to Arya with a face that let it clear that he didn’t think it to be a good idea at all.

“Hit me with all you have. I’ll only block your movements.” Jon said while he felt the balance of the blade and got in position. “Whenever you want.”

Arya took a deep breath before holding at the hilt with her left hand. Jon grinned at her, probably relying on the idea that she didn’t even know how to handle a blade. Well...He would come to regret it soon.

The first blow had been enough to startle him and throw the prince out of balance. He was probably used with his opponents only using their right hands and the fact that she was fast like a cat made things even worst.

What Jon had expected to be just a silly thing; an indulgent act towards a lady in distress, turned into a serious challenge. Soon only blocking her didn’t seem to be enough and the fight turned into something real.

He was really good with the sword. Better than Robb and Bran, but she was still faster. Jon tried to aim for her left shoulder with a blow from above and Arya managed to block it. The strength of the move nearly had her on the floor, but once she recovered her balance Arya hit his left side in a clumsy way.

“You’re dead, Your Highness!” Ser Dayne declared with a hint of amusement in his tone. “The Lady won the day and you should know better than to challenge a northerner woman.”

“I wasn’t expecting for the left hand.” Jon tried to defend himself. “Do your brothers know how to use it as well?”

“No. It’s just me. Another defect of mine, I suppose.” Arya said while feeling much better. At that point she couldn’t even remember why Sansa had upset her.

“Hardly a defect. In a swordsman is a rare ability and a surprise effect to the opponent.” Dayne said. “You certainly have the talent for it. With a bit of practice and technique, you could be great, but maybe a different style would suit you better. The Bravoosi Water Dance, perhaps.”

“I’ve heard of it. Quite fascinating, but I doubt I could find a teacher. Mother would never allow it.” Arya replied with a smile. “You are quite good yourself, Your Highness.”

“Not good enough for you, it seems.” Jon lowered his head with evident embarrassment. “I’m officially humiliated and I’m sure Mother will laugh at me for day because of it. What does my lady want for a prize?”

“No need for prizes. I’m already feeling better thanks to you.” Arya said with a smile. Jon nod negatively.

“I insist. You won this little challenge fair and square and reminded me that I should never underestimate an opponent. You deserve a prize.” He smiled at her shyly, with his face still flushed by the effort and embarrassment.

“Berry tarts would be a delicious prize.”

 

§§§§§§§§

 

At the eve of the tournament, Ser Arthur had insisted upon a last training. He claimed that since the Starks’ arrival, Jon had been distracted and clumsy like he had never been before. That wouldn’t be good enough to make him win the lists and the gods knew he wanted to make his parents proud. I also wouldn’t hurt if Lady Arya were to look at him with admiration for a change.

In which concerned his Father offer, Jon still didn’t know what to do and training was a good way to forget about it for a moment.

“You have too much in your mind right now.” Daayne said at some point. “It’s not like you to be distracted by silly things. Why don’t you say what it’s bothering you, so we can find a way to solve the problem.”

“It’s not a problem exactly.” Jon said before sitting on the floor, absolutely exhausted. “It’s more like a solution I’m not ready to accept.”

“What does it even mean?” Dayne questioned before handling the Prince a towel.

“Marriage.” Jon answered as a matter of fact. “The King offered me a great opportunity, but right now I’m not sure if I should accept it.”

“Have Rhaegar picked you a bride already?” Arthur questioned. If such a thing had been decided, Ser Dayne would probably be the first one to know.

“Not yet, but he waves a tempting possibility at me. He said I just had to say that I want it and I shall have the lady.” Jon said.

“A great opportunity indeed. You know that princes rarely have the chance to have a say in these things. Who is the lady?” Dayne asked curiously.

“My cousin, Lady Arya.” Jon answered shyly. “I really don’t know what to do.”

“The girl that has keeping you distracted for nearly a month now? I thought it was common knowledge that you have a soft spot for her. Why haven’t you accepted yet?”

“Because I don’t know if she feels the same about me or if she is just tolerating my presence because she can’t really refuse it.” He sighed. “I’ve always known my bride would be picked for political convenience. I was ready to accept it because nothing good ever came from an insubordinate and romantic prince. Now that I actually can have someone I like, I don’t want to force her into this without being certain that she would appreciate the arrangement. I don’t want Arya to be unhappy as my Mother was for most of her life.”

“Big thoughts indeed. If she is anything like Her Grace as people say she is, I doubt she would simply tolerate your presence. I think you might have a chance of winning her heart. You’ll win the lists tomorrow and she will be dazzled by our fierce and charming prince. Isn’t it what ladies want?”

“Says the man who joined the King’s Guard and conveniently avoided all these complicated questions.” The Prince teased.

When Jon found her at the courtyard, obviously upset about something, for a moment he wondered if she knew of the King’s plans already. To his relief, Arya confessed that Lady Sansa was the cause of her distress and she would like to exercise to forget about it a bit.

That felt like his chance to impress her, or at least helping his lady in distress. Jon never really expected her to be that good with a blade or to use her left hand with such grace. In the end, instead of impressing Arya, he had been humiliated by her ability as his excessive confidence.

At least she gave him an excuse to spend more time in her presence. Jon ordered for berry tarts and sweetened wine to be served at the garden. Arthur followed them from a safe distance just to make sure they wouldn’t feel tempted to do anything wrong. To a certain level, Jon preferred it that way. Lord Stark would never be able to say that Jon had ever disrespected his daughter.

“What did Lady Sansa said to upset you like that?” Jon asked once they were served.

“Some silly thing.” Arya lowered her face a bit to avoid his eyes. “Like anyone else she thinks I should keep a distance from you.”

“This suspicions are getting old already.” Jon said with frustration. “I’ll never be free from my parents’ sins as it seems.”

“It’s not really about you and your conduct. In Sansa’s case I suspect it has to do with something else.” Arya said. “She is used to be the center of attentions. Me spending time with the crown prince isn’t something she ever thought to be possible.”

“I guess if Aegon had reached adulthood we might have had similar problems.” Jon tried to sound sympathetic. “Growing up with Viserys near has been a challenge already. Imagine how it would be to have an older brother looking just like the King just to remind me how much of a deficient heir I am..”

“Second sons and second daughters...We are born to be in the shadows, aren’t we?” Arya questioned bitterly. “You are a prince though. It’s a terrible thing that Prince Aegon died at such a young age, but you can’t be overshadowed by anyone.”

“That’s what you think. I know what people say behind my back. I try to not think about it, but it’s quite obvious. Some say I’m a bastard. Son of Robert, or another secret lover my Mother had.” Jon’s voice was a sad one. “Viserys used to say that once my Father died nobody would support my claim and he would be King. Once he had the crown he would kill me and my mother. I would gladly stay in Aegon’s shadow if my brother proved to be a good man and that meant to keep my Mother safe and Viserys in his proper place.”

“The King allowed him to say these horrible things?” Arya seemed shocked at the revelation.

“He turned a blind eye to it while the Queen Mother was alive. Once she died, Father sent Viserys to Dorne to marry Arianne Martell. He wouldn’t feel so inclined to be stupid and violent near Oberyn Martell’s niece.”

“I’m glad you don’t have to deal with him any more.” Her voice was gentle and sympathetic.

“Me too.” There was silence for a while and they ate their sweet and had their wine in peace. “Will you accept my mother’s offer?”

That question came out of his mind almost by accident. It had been haunting him since the day he listed to their conversation.

“I don’t know yet.” Arya said. “I hear Mother and Father arguing at night. I think it’s about it. They don’t want me to stay here, but they don’t want me to go back North because of the separatists.”

“Do you want to stay though?” Jon insisted. “You would be safe here and far from any conflict that might come out of it.”

“I do not fear the separatist. I didn’t even want to come to King’s Landing when Father said we were to attend the tournament. Now...I don’t think it would be a bad thing to stay. I already like spending time with the Queen and it would be better than to be sent to Highgarden with Sansa.”

“Mother likes you very much, you know? She keeps telling me so.” Jon tried to not give away how much he wanted her to stay nor that he also liked her very much. “The Red Keep isn’t that bad and I’m sure you would find your way around it just fine.”

“At least I wouldn’t have to marry someone. Not for a long while at least.” She teased with a playful smile. “Would you practice sword fighting with me?”

“Whenever you want, dearest cousin.”

 

§§§§§§§§§§

 

Her head was resting against Rhaegar’s chest as she tried to recover her breath. Something had changed between them. Maybe it wasn’t the guilt she felt, but how much she missed being a part of her own family what had poisoned her marriage for so many years. Or maybe it was Rhaegar letting go of prophecies and world saviors that were never needed or that they had found a common cause in making their son happy.

The fact was that the Queen and King had talked during the last month more than they had talked during the last year. Rhaegar rediscovered his appetite for her and Lyanna was learning to enjoy those moments. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better.

“Have Jon talked to you about his decision?” Rhaegar asked absently. “I’ve never seen a young man so reticent about the chance of bedding a pretty girl he likes.”

“Vaguely, but he has his own concerns about it.” Lyanna replied in a languid tone. “I understand he likes her, perhaps enough to call it love, but he is not willing to have her if Arya doesn’t want him.”

“Honor and loyalty will still be the death of this boy.” Rhaegar said before kissing her forehead. “What should we do?”

“As my lady-in-waiting Arya would have to live at court and that would give him enough time to woo her. Other than that I’m not sure if there is anything we can do. Not if we stick to this idea. We still can find him someone else.” Lyanna’s voice suddenly became a sad one. “It’s not what I would like, but it’s his choice after all.”

“I’m afraid that Lady Arya is the ideal bride, regardless to the boy’s feelings in this. The North, the Vale, the Riverlands and now the Reach. This girl would connect us with several major houses and that would grand this kingdom a bit of stability. Have you ever bothered to tell your son that he is a prince at all? There is no better suitor than him and his will is to be law once I’m gone.” Rhaegar sounded annoyed and yet there was humor to his voice in a way she was unused to.

“He learned from our mistakes.” Lyanna would tell it to herself every night like a prayer. “I don’t think it’s wrong for him to want a happy bride instead of a weeping one.”

“We both know Jon doesn’t want the girl to be unhappy like you were.” Rhaegar said bitterly. “This last month was the best we had in our wedding, but I’m not a fool to believe that it will last forever, not without us addressing the real problem between us.”

“There’s no use to talk about it now. It won’t change things. It won’t bring the dead ones back.” Lyanna said as she rose from bed still naked.

“No, it won’t. I just hope it will allow you to let go of your self-imposed suffering. They are dead, Lyanna. Your father and brother, Elia and my children. They are dead and we can either chose to live with what we have now and make the best of it, or insist upon this cold war between us.”

“Is it even possible?” She asked bitterly. “It doesn’t seem fair at all for me to be happy when Princess Elia died in this castle, along with my father and brother. We are cursed, Rhaegar.”

“No prophecies and no curses. I’m done with both.” He declared. “We have been happy once, even if briefly. Let us try to be happy again.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not particularly happy with this chapter, but I wanted to highlight the difficult relationship between Sansa and Arya. I also wanted Jon to have a friend that isn't a part of his family, so Dayne sounded like a good option. I hope you'll like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


	6. Chapter 6

The day of the tournament finally arrived and Arya had been invited to the Prince’s pavilion along with her brothers. All of the Stark children declined, mostly because both Robb and Bran would compete, and it wouldn’t be proper for the ladies to go on their own.

Alys tied a pair of white and gray ribbons on Robb’s spear for luck. Sansa gave her brothers-in-law roses before she could take her place by Willas side. Arya just kissed Bran and wished him good luck on the competition.

“I’ll crown you Queen of Love and Beauty, if I win.” Bran said kindly to her. “I don’t think Mother would mind and Sansa has been crowned enough for a life time already.”

“Since when you are nice to me?” Arya teased him.

“You are my little sister. It’s not only the Prince that can be nice to you.” He said as a matter of fact in a clear provocation to her sudden proximity to their cousin. “Will you send him your favor to wear?”

“Why would I do such a thing?” Arya tried to sound shocked and yet it only served to make Bran smirk. “I’m rooting for my brothers. Not for him. I hope you do well or I’ll have to get a sword and defend the family’s honor myself.”

“And the gods know I wouldn’t stand a chance against you.” A third voice was heard and Arya tried to not blush when she turned to face Jon.

It was the first time she had seen him in full armor. His black breast plate had neither a dragon, nor a wolf on it; there were only little roses painted in light blue. His jet black hair was messy and he seemed to be confident as he entered the Stark pavilion.

“I came to wish you all good luck.” The Prince said before shaking hands with both Bran and Robb.

“It’s your name-day. I guess we will have to go easy on you, Your Highness.” Robb replied with his usual bright smile.

“Please, don’t. I would feel insulted. If I’m to win, let it be for my own merit. I won’t lose to another Stark though. Dayne made sure of it.” He finally turned to face Arya properly and for a second she didn’t know what to do. “Don’t need to worry, cousin. I won’t make you chose between me and your brothers.”

“I wouldn’t chose you anyway.” She teased him and Jon’s grin grew wider. “Good luck though. Try to stay on your horse.”

“I know you don’t have the highest opinion of me, but I will try to exceed your expectations.” He said. “You will give your favor to a handsome knight, I suppose.”

“Not really. I’m loyal to my family.” Arya replied with a smile.

“Luckily, I’m also part of your family.” Arya didn’t know exactly what he meant with that, but it seemed clear that he was expecting something of her. “I want to see all of your heavily drunk tonight. We will celebrate my name-day and victory in great style.”

“My favorite kind of celebration.” Robb said boisterously and received an angry look from his wife.

“We haven’t had the chance to thank you for offering us Dragonstone, Your Highness. We are most grateful to your kindness.” Alys said politely so Robb would have the chance to talk about getting drunk.

“You are most welcome, my lady.” Jon said with a gentle smile. “Robb is my cousin and as good as a brother to me and that makes you my sister by marriage as well. Consider it my late wedding gift to you. I hope you’ll enjoy it.” Jon gave Arya one more look and his eyes were still full of expectation. “I guess I must go. I need to get on top of my horse before Dayne comes here to drag me out.”

Jon turned his back and left the pavilion with his head down. Arya didn’t know why that made her heart ache a bit. Was he really hoping to wear her favor? That couldn’t be. It would be just as scandalous as crowing a committed woman Queen of Love and Beauty.

“You don’t have to give him you favor to wear, but at least give him a good luck kiss.” Alys whispered to her ear, dragging Arya back to reality. “He came all the way here because of you. Go, before you miss your chance. I know you want to anyway.”

“You are a devious woman, Alys.” Arya answered while rolling her eyes as she tried not to laugh.

“Do you think Robb and I have always played by the rules during our engagement? You, better than anyone, should know that the forbidden tastes better. Go. I’ll keep the boys distracted.”

Arya couldn’t say for sure why she got out of the pavilion, nor why Alys suggestion sounded so tempting. Perhaps it was the idea that Jon was indeed forbidden to her and that would make her life even more chaotic; or maybe it was just her curiosity and vanity guiding her and making her test the limits of their odd friendship.

Jon was already at his pavilion and Ser Arthur was standing outside when Arya arrived. The man said nothing. He only looked at Arya with a half grin before letting her pass. It felt like Arya and Ser Dayne were sharing a secret and that felt wicked and delicious.

When she entered the place, Jon seemed to be distracted checking at his sword. He looked somewhat disappointed, but Arya couldn’t tell if it was the sword or something else upsetting him.

“Your Highness!” Arya called him and Jon immediately looked at her as he put his sword aside. He seemed to be honestly surprised by her presence.

“My Lady, how can I serve you?” He asked in a courteous tone.

“I...” Suddenly Arya was speechless. “I have no favor to give.” She confessed before looking down at her feet out of embarrassment. “I want to wish you good luck.”

“Thank you, cousin.” He said shyly. “I’m sure I’ll be blessed by your sincere wish.”

“There’s something else.” She said before looking back at him.

Jon was looking at her with curiosity, but he didn’t seem aware of what she meant by that. Arya walked the short distance between them and for the first time she noticed how tall he was. She had to get on the tip of her toes to make it possible for her lips to reach his face. Her intention was to kiss his shaved cheek, but Jon turned his head a bit at the last moment and their lips touched in a clumsy accidental kiss.

The Prince held her by the waist preventing her from falling and making the kiss last a while longer. When Arya parted the kiss and imposed a decent distance between them, Jon seemed to be half shocked and half marveled.

“Good luck.” She said breathlessly one last time.

In a matter of seconds Jon went form a shy and discreet boy to a vigorous and proud young man. His head was held high and his chest seemed to inflate with pride and bravery. The uncertain boy she knew – full of doubts and insecurities about his looks and his own capability of becoming king – seemed to find in a kiss the certainty and the resolution that he was capable. He was born to greatness.

“I’ll win.” He declared with conviction. “I’ll win it for you.” For the first time Arya saw in him a real Prince. Jon held her hand before kissing the back of it. “I’ll have your first dance tonight.” That had been his first royal command to her and for a brief second Arya got a glimpse of the King he would become.

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

At first he heard the sound of wood breaking and the roaring sound of the crowd cheering. He didn’t get to feel any sort of impact against his armor or shield. When his horse stopped and turned around Jon could finally see his cousin laid on the floor with two squires trying to help him to get up. The sound cheers was mighty and his heart was beating as fast as a war drum.

He removed his helm so he could breath properly. His first instinct was to look at the places of honor in search of Arya. Jon saw her standing with half of her body inclined over the protection bar with her sister-in-law, who was clearly worried about Robb.

Arya’s eyes found his as he conducted his horse all the way to the Royal Box where his mother and father were. He saw her blush at the sight of him and Jon wished for nothing but to climb all the way to her and claim yet another kiss as prize.

The herald declared his victory and brought the crown of Winter Roses to him. For a second the taste in his mouth was a bitter one. No matter how tempting the idea was, his mother had been quite clear about it. He shouldn’t crown Arya. He shouldn’t put trap her like that, nor embarrass his uncle by doing so.

Jon held the crown in his hands and took one rosebuds from it before placing the flowers on his mother’s lap.

“To the one and only Queen of Love and Beauty.” Jon said while smiling to the Queen, who was looking at him with eyes full of pride.

The King and Queen rose from their seats and left the Royal Box to get to the arena. Jon got down from his horse to receive his prize from his father’s hands. When Rhaegar stood in front of him, Jon bowed his head in sign of respect.

“You were magnificent today.” The King placed his hands on Jon’s shoulders before pulling his son to an embrace. “The Warrior personified. Well done.”

“Thank you, Father.” Jon replied as he allowed the joy of that moment to take over him.

“You won the lists and it’s your name-day. What do you want from your King?” Rhaegar asked kindly. “Name it and it’s yours.”

Jon lowered his head a bit and considered his words for a brief second. He couldn’t think of nothing else. He wanted nothing else. Whenever he closed his eyes; every time he knocked down an opponent; the memory of that kiss would come back to his mind.

He had lowered himself to the point of going to her brother’s pavilion, hoping that Arya would graciously grant him her favor to wear. Obviously she gave him nothing and for a moment Jon was certain that his cousin saw in him nothing worthy of her affections. He left the tent feeling an utter fool for being so presumptuous, but when Arya stormed her way into his own pavilion to wish him good luck, his faith had been renewed.

It had been her to cross the distance. It had been her to summon her courage and do what he could not. Arya tried to reach his face and kiss his cheek, but Jon wanted more. He turned his face deliberately to claim her lips instead and her acceptance gave him certainty that he wasn’t alone in his feelings.

“Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell.”He answered to the King in a low tone so no one else would hear. “I want Lady Arya Stark for my wife.”

“You will have her.” Rhaegar declared. “We will start the negotiations immediately.”

Jon looked at the rosebud in his hand and smiled with hope.

During that night’s festivities court looked splendid or maybe it was just him and all the wine he had consumed.

Robb was all bruised from the joust, but he seemed to be just fine, especially after all the attention Alys was giving him. The couple seemed to be perfectly happy in their marriage and they would sail to Dragonstone in the next morning.

Bran was enjoying the wine and all the ladies looking at him with interest. The young Stark boy even tried his luck by inviting a northern lady to dance.

Jon looked around looking for Arya so they could have a dance together, but his cousin was nowhere to be seen. He asked Robb where she was and his cousin said that Arya had gone outside for a bit of fresh air.

The Prince took it as a sign that she was waiting for him and wine gave him all the courage he needed to go after her to demand his prize.

As Robb said, Arya was outside the ball room, in an empty hallway, sitting by a window like in the first night they actually talked to each other. Her hair had been braided in a complex pattern with white ribbons and lace stripes to tie it, but not like anything the ladies of court would wear. Her gown was made of light gray velvet, with bell sleeves and ermine fur around the collar. Around her pale neck a necklace of white and blue pearls.

“I was waiting for you.” He said to call her attention. Arya turned to look at him and her face immediately blushed. “I said I would have your first dance tonight.”

“I just need a bit of fresh air.” Arya answered. “Congratulations on your victory. I don’t know which one is more bruised; Robb ass or his pride.”

“He will live.” Jon answered with a playful smirk.

Jon walked toward her carefully. He had pinned the rosebud to his tunic. He had the Dragon and the Blue Rose as his coat of arms and since his birth the Blue Rose had been used as the Prince’s personal heraldic symbol whenever he was mentioned in documents. It wasn’t a surprise that he would wear it pined to his clothes every now and then, especially if the occasion was to honor the Queen, but that night it had a different meaning.

“Were I free to do as I please, I would have crowned you my Queen of Love and Beauty today.” He said as he took the rosebud from his tunic. “I was told to not do so, but still...I crown you my Princess of Love and Beauty.” Jon placed the rosebud in hair and smiled at the image. She looked lovely.

“You don’t have to.” Arya said. “I know you want to be kind to me, but there’s no need for such a thing. I’m sorry about today. It was not right to go to your pavilion like that.”

“I don’t care if it was right or not. I wished you would come to see me before I got on my horse.” Jon insisted. “I won today because of you. I won it for you.”

“You won the joust for yourself. You have trained for it your whole life.” Arya replied sharply. It seemed that she was determinate to not see the obvious, or to convince him that he couldn’t possibly see in her anything of interest.

“Indeed...You changed everything though.” Jon said as he cupped her cheek with his hand. “The only thing I could think about was to prove myself to be worthy of you. I’m sure you know...I’ve been painfully obvious about my feelings, but I must say it out loud so there will be no mistakes. When I first saw you I was determinate to befriend you and your siblings so my mother would be happy. I didn’t expect that you would take my heart in your hands so easily. I didn’t expect you to knock me down or to make me smile and laugh as you do effortlessly. I didn’t expect to find myself inside the Stark pavilion almost begging you to give me your favor to wear, but...Gods! You came to me and you kissed me for luck. You gave me the hope I hadn’t allowed myself to have until that moment and now...”

“Don’t be stupid. You know what sort of things can happened if you keep taking like this.” Arya said stubbornly.

“I am my Father’s son after all.” Jon confessed. “No wiser than he has been. At least neither of us promised to another and I won’t ask forgiveness because of what I feel for you. I came here to claim my prize.”

Unlike the episode at his pavilion, that kiss had nothing that could be named as clumsy or accidental. There was nothing chaste about it either. The Prince had one of his arms pulling her by the waist and the other hand at her nape.

Arya answered to his kiss without an ounce of shyness or modesty, unlike other ladies he had kissed before. There was a wildness to her that enchanted him. Arya was a daughter of ice, but her lips proved to be capable of waking up the Dragon in him.

Soon he would have Arya for his wife, as his father had promised. Jon would have songs written in her honor and they would live at Dragonstone for a couple of years. In their wedding night she would look at him with feverish passion and whisper his name sweetly.

One day, when his hair started to turn gray and his Father left the world, Jon would seat on the Iron Throne and Arya would seat by his side. They would rule together and they would be happy.

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

Once Lord Stark’s heir sailed to Dragonstone with his wife, the King decided it was about time to address the matter of a match between Jon and Lady Arya.

Lord and Lady Stark were summoned to the royal solar to meet the King and Queen for a private talk. Once everything was settled between them, the Small Council would be informed and arrangements would be made.

Lyanna had barely slept at night and her food had remained untouched since the banquet. It didn’t take much for him to see that she was afraid for their son and anxious about the result of that negotiation. When Ned and Cat arrived with their sour faces, it was quite clear that the talking would be a difficult one.

“Thank you for coming.” Rhaegar said in a pleasant tone as both Lord and Lady Stark paid him courtesy. “This is a joyous day, my lord and lady. The tournament and the friendship between our Houses is to be celebrated.”

“It was a magnificent even, Your Grace. It shall be remembered for the years to come.” Lady Catelyn answered politely.

“We couldn’t be any more satisfied by the fact that Jon became so fond of all your children. He won’t stop talking about it and I’m sure this friendship will be for the benefit of the realm.” Lyanna replied to her sister-in-law. “Having you near again made me so happy, Ned. I can’t stop thinking that this is how things should be.”

“It was my pleasure.” Ned’s answer was brief, but at least he was smiling at the Queen.

“We have been thinking that it’s about time to overcome past differences.” Rhaegar said. “This month made somethings clear. Jon is of age now and we must think about a proper bride.”

“As it seems, the Prince and my dear niece are very fond of each other.” Lyanna’s voice was sweet and gentle. “In fact, when we questioned Jon how he felt about a possible match between them, he was very happy with the prospect.”

“Lady Arya is a woman already and we approve of her. It’s a union that would not only benefit the realm, but also make both our children happy.” Rhaegar completed. “Therefore, we summoned you so we can discuss the terms of it.”

“Has Arya been consulted about it?” Eddard asked carefully. “I do not doubt that the Prince is happy wish the prospect, but what of my daughter? Have you ever bothered to ask her opinion on the matter?”

“You have seen them together, Ned.” Lyanna tried to reason with him. “It is evident that she is interested. There’s nothing for her to dislike. Jon is young and close to her age, handsome, honorable and brave. With of without a crown attached, any woman would be lucky to have him.”

“My daughter is no different than you at a similar age, Lya. I remember well how much you hated the idea of an arranged marriage at the time.” Ned insisted. “I doubt Arya will feel any different.”

“I was against marrying your precious Robert.” Lyanna answered sharply. “No matter how much of a good friend he could be to men like you; to me he would be little more than an unfaithful brute and you know it. One day or another you’ll have to find her a husband and I doubt it will be a man she loves.”

“With all due respect, Your Grace.” Catelyn finally spoke. “You are assuming that Arya loves, or is at least fond of the Prince, enough to accept the arrangement. I do not doubt she might be dazzled by the novelty of it. Being the object of a powerful man’s attention is not something she is used to, but the reality of being a royal princess...All the protocol and the hardship of it. I don’t think this is something my daughter wishes. If it were Sansa, I wouldn’t question. She is a good girl and have always known her place, but Arya could never be happy inside a golden cage.”

“None of us could, Cat. Yet here we stand. You married to the wrong brother and me, the wild child, surviving this golden cage you mentioned. We always learn how to survive. That’s what makes us women.”

“Name your terms, Lord Stark. Tell me the bride’s price and you’ll have it. A position in the Small Council, knighthood to your sons, lands...Just name it.” Rhaegar insisted. “The marriage can be postponed for a couple of years, if you think would the girl to adjust to the idea. Meanwhile she would have time to learn from Lyanna.”

“Your Grace said I wouldn’t have restrictions about a marriage if I were to give Arya to a son of Robert Baratheon.” Ned replied bitterly. “There’s much blood and history between House Stark and House Targaryen. The idea of this union doesn’t agree with me at all, but I won’t deny happiness to Arya if she thinks the Prince is what can make her happy.”

“We shall have an announcement very soon.” Lyanna said with confidence. “Maybe in a couple of years you’ll come back to the capitol for the presentation of our grandchild to the real.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good luck telling the news to Arya.  
> I hope you'll like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


	7. Chapter 7

The King summoned him to the royal chambers a day after the tournament. Robb and Alys had left to Dragonstone that morning, despite of the wind and the cold, and Jon was absolutely certain that his life was about to change for good.

He had Arya’s first dance and they exchanged secret kisses before she went back to her room at the Maidens’ Vault. Jon was tempted to follow her or even to invite her to his room so they could anticipate their wedding night, but matters of legitimacy were vital, especially when he had Viserys’ shadow breathing on his neck.

Jon would give Lord Stark no reasons to distrust him or to oppose to the marriage. During the negotiations Jon would do absolutely nothing wrong, except for a few stolen kisses and secret letters sent to his beloved.

Once he received the King’s summon, for a second the Prince was fearful. What if Lord Stark wouldn’t accept the terms? What could possibly convince his uncle of the benefits of that union?

Jon entered the room and to his surprise her mother was there too and she had a blissful smile on her face.

“She is yours.” The King declared proudly. “The man of ice agreed to the match and we shall have an announcement soon. This is a very fortunate day.”

The Prince tried to keep his dignity and not let his emotions take over him, but to not laugh was impossible.

“Is it true? Lord Stark really accepted it? Easy like this?” Jon asked in disbelief.

“Make no mistakes. This wasn’t easy at all. Eddard is still reluctant, but he said he wouldn’t oppose with one condition, but I’m sure it won’t be a problem to my son.” His mother said.

“Oh tell me, Mother! Do I have to slain a dragon? Travel to Asshai and back? Go beyond the Wall and fight willdlings? What is it that my uncle demands of me?” He asked breathlessly.

“Lady Arya’s acceptance to the arrangement.” Lyanna said. “Eddard said he will only agree with it if his daughter is willing to become your bride. Tell your lady about the news and take her to Ned and as soon he has her answer we will make the announcement.”

“I’ll tell her now!” Jon said as he felt intoxicated by happiness. “I’m sure Arya will be as happy as I am. Thank you, Father. Thank you mother.”

“You deserve a bit of happiness in your life and I’m glad you happiness comes with four kingdoms as her dowry.” The King answered. “Now...We have one more thing to tell you.”

“I doubt it can be better than this, but do tell me.” Jon said with a smile.

“I’m with child, Jon.” His mother said as her hand rested on top of her flat belly. “The maester confirmed it today.”

“Gods be good!” Jon said as he ran to his mother. He kissed both her hands and then her forehead. “I was wrong. This is even better. Congratulations, Your Graces.”

“I believe the gods have finally heard our prayers.” His Father said with sheer joy. “Don’t tell about the Queen’s condition to anyone yet. We must wait a couple of months before making an announcement and we don’t want it to eclipse the news of your betrothal.”

“Now I’ll have two hundred candles burning at the Great Sept and I’ll sleep under the heart tree to thank the old gods for this as well.” Jon said. “Excuse me, Father and Mother. I must go to my bride now.”

Jon forgot about his good manners and dignity completely once the King allowed him to go. He ran through the halls, shocking courtiers and servants alike. He could already imagine the day. Arya entering the Great Sept all dressed in white. His cloak covering her shoulders.

Arya wasn’t at the gardens, nor at the courtyard. He looked for her everywhere until a maid told him that the Lady was in her room.

Once he got to Maindens’ Vault, Jon didn’t even bother to knock at the door. Servants bowed as he passed by. It didn’t take long for Arya to get out of her room and meet him at the parlor where he was waiting.

Her hair was completely lose and falling over her shoulders. Her dress was made of dark green damask in the northern fashion. Jon smiled at her shamelessly as Arya looked at him with a mix of curiosity and shock.

“What are you doing here?” She asked without carrying about protocol. “Father will be mad at you if he finds you here.”

“No, he won’t. Not this time.” Jon said breathlessly. “I have the most extraordinary news to give you, Arya.”

“What is it? Have you won a dragon egg or something like this?” She asked while laughing at his excitement.

“It’s settled. They have reached an agreement and I don’t even know how it happened but it did.” Jon said without even breathe. “We are to be married. My Father just told me and...Oh Gods, Arya! I can’t believe it! You’ll be my wife! My princess!”

He looked at her hoping that Arya would laugh and cry out of joy. He expected for some kind of reaction other than the pale face and the disbelief in her eyes.

“What did you say?”

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

Saying goodbye to Robb and Alys at the port had turned her hair into a nest. The wind was howling and chilly, proving that the Stark words were about to make sense to realm. Winter was coming indeed.

Arya had just loosened her hair to have a bath when a maid came in to inform her that the Prince was waiting for her at the parlor.

Her bath could wait, but Jon could not. Arya wasn’t sure if she was ready to face him after what happened at is pavilion and at the banquet. The memory of it would never fail to make her blush. She could barely believe it that Jon could possibly be interested in her. Now he was there. Waiting for her and under the risk of her father arriving at any moment. It would be chaos.

“What are you doing here?” She asked without carrying about protocol once he saw him at the parlor, with his messy hair and wide smile. “Father will be mad at you if he finds you here.”

“No, he won’t. Not this time.” Jon said breathless as his eyes shone with excitement. “I have the most extraordinary news to give you, Arya.”

“What is it? Have you won a dragon egg or something like this?” She asked while laughing at his sudden enthusiasm.

“It’s settled. They have reached an agreement and I don’t even know how it happened but it did.” Jon said without even breathe. “We are to be married. My Father just told me and...Oh Gods, Arya! I can’t believe it! You’ll be my wife! My princess!”

For a second Arya thought she had heard it wrong, but then she realized that Jon wouldn’t risk being found if he hadn’t some sort of guarantee that neither of them would face problems because of any indiscretion.

“What did you say?” She asked out of shock as she felt her whole body turning cold.

“We are to be married.” He repeated carefully. “The announcement will happen soon. Arya, please have a seat. You look like you are about to faint. I should have been more careful about it. The excitement of it was probably too much for you.” He said with is usual kindness.

“Why are you acting as if it was the best thing that could ever happen?” Arya asked him. “This makes no sense whatsoever.”

“It makes perfect sense.” Jon gave one step forward. “We are both free and it was only a matter of time for it to happen.”

“I thought this wasn’t an option at all. Father would never agree with this.” Her hands were shaking.

“He wasn’t even favorable to the idea of me becoming a lady-in-waiting. How could it happen?”

“I understand that the negotiations were difficult, but Lord Stark agreed in the end. It was faster than I expected.” Jon replied in a pleased tone as her rage took over her blood like poison.

“Faster than you expected? Did you know that these negotiations were happening?” She asked in disbelief.

“Well… Yes. Father said I could have a say in the matter. The King was pleased with the idea and said he wouldn’t oppose to my will if I chose you. For a while I wasn’t sure if you felt the same about me. I didn’t want to say anything before I was sure that you love me as I love you.”

“When exactly you were planning to ask me what I thought of this?” Arya asked with a bitter taste in her mouth. “The King offered me to you as an option...As if I were a piece of meat or a mare you could have for a breeder and you decided that you liked me enough! Gods! I’ve been sold to you and you come here smiling as if I would rejoice at the idea!”

“I thought...” Jon’s face turned pale and his eyes were taken by fear. “I though you liked me, Arya.”

“Oh I do like you. I like you very much; except when you decide to act behind my back and trade me like an object!” She covered her forehead with her hand as she felt the headache approaching.

“I thought you would be happy about it. You are to become a royal princess. You’ll be envied by all the ladies of Westeros. You’ll be above your sister in rank and one day your son will be King. You’ll have me.” His eyes were full of contained tears as he looked at her like a beggar.

“Gods...You don’t understand it at all, do you?” Her anger softened a bit. “I’m not Sansa. I’ve never dreamed of being a great lady. I’ve never craved for power and I grew up listening to stories of how unhappy your mother was. Leaving locked inside this place like a canary in a cage. Singing whenever the King demanded. I’m not a court lady that would be marveled at the idea of becoming a princess. I can barely manage being a lady and you’ll drag me to this place so I can be another adornment only meant to give birth to your sons.”

“Are you...Are you rejecting me?” Jon sounded like a wounded man as tears crossed his face.

“I can’t really turn you down, can I?” She asked bitterly.

“I...I won’t force you into this. I would never...”He could barely speak.

“You would never have me against my will?” She asked with sarcasm. “For someone raised inside this place, you know nothing. You already made your move and that set the pieces in line. Your agreement made the King and my Father to make their moves and now you’ll have me. No matter what I say or do, nothing can stop it from happening. I have no power to refuse or reject a marriage proposal from the Prince of Dragonstone, especially when the King and my Father already agreed to it. Prince Duncan and his brothers refuse to marry their chosen brides to marry for love and the realm bleed because of it. Rejecting you? Fighting against this marriage? Even if you say that you would never have me against my will, it’s no longer possible to prevent it from happening. Not without causing another war.”

“Why…?” He took a deep breath for a moment. “Why did you go to my pavilion then? Why did you kiss me before the joust, giving me hope and making me believe that you loved me?”

“I went to you because I do love you or at least the man I thought you were! I love the shy boy who once I called friend. The one who never failed to make me feel better about myself and that used to be honest with me.” Arya replied bitterly. “This person...This man standing in front of me and declaring that I was sold to him at a fair price is a complete stranger to me.”

“I am the same man.” Jon said coldly. “I haven’t change, Arya. I just can’t understand why the idea of being married to a man you love makes you so miserable.”

“It’s not about being married to you. It’s about the man I love acting behind my back and treating me as if I had no feelings or opinions. You believe that you could decide my future and bind it to yours like the entitled prince that you are.” Arya felt her own tears running down her face. “I wouldn’t mind it if you were a farmer and proposed to me. Gods...I would love if you weren’t the crown prince. You didn’t propose to me though. You just came here and announced the matter is already decided regardless to my opinion and feelings.”

“I’m not a simple farmer and you are not a blacksmith’s daughter.” Jon replied with bitter words. “We can’t change who we are and at least for me it have always been clear that if I ever came to love my future wife I would be a lucky man. As I said before, I won’t ask forgiveness for my feelings. The King made me an offer. One that felt like a true blessing because I was half way in love with you already. I would never have another chance like that so I said yes. You know how it works in our world. Lord Stark would find you a husband soon or latter. One you never knew, maybe old enough to be your father. One that might treat you poorly or even be cruel to you. Isn’t it better to marry someone you already know? Someone young, healthy and strong? Someone who worships you?”

“You are everything a woman could wish for.” Arya said sadly as she tried to dry her tears. “I’m not indifferent to it and I know you are the best deal I could get even if I didn’t feel a thing for you; but right now I feel betrayed and I feel hurt. I gave you my trust and loyalty and you threw it away.”

Jon lowered his head and tried to reach for her hand, but Arya refused the touch. The effect was immediate. The confidence she had seen in his eyes at the tournament had vanished and he was just a boy once more. A lost and lonely boy.

“I wronged you and for that I bag for your forgiveness. I made a terrible mistake believing that if I succeeded it would make you happy.” His voice was humble and constricted. “Please...Forgive me. I shall be the most devoted husband to you, if you agree to have me. I promise you that I’ll live to make you happy and I’ll love you like no one else could.”

“I will marry you, Jon.” Arya declared. “This is the only option I have. Just don’t ask me to be happy about it. Not now.”

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

Lyanna would have to be blind to not see that things had soured between her son and her niece. She had never seen Jon desolated like that before even though Arya had declared to the King and her father that she agreed with the marriage.

The smiles and laughs they used to share died somewhere. Where once there was warmth and tenderness, had been taken by distance and bitterness.

Jon told her what happened between him and Arya eventually. The Queen had to summon all of her strength to not punish the girl for being so cruel to her son, but she knew that to be a selfish and cruel feeling. Once she stood in Arya’s place and whenever Lyanna looked at her niece the Queen saw a bit of herself.

Jon was not Rhaegar though, and death hadn’t tainted that love as it had tainted her love for the King. Lyanna trusted that Arya would forgive Jon with time and the sweet feelings she had would grow once more. In a year or two they would have children and Arya would discover through motherhood how strong that love could be and she would become devoted to Jon as he was devoted to her.

Arya was just a silly and willful girl from the North, just like Lyanna had been. Time would teach her that happiness could be found in the most unusual places. She would come to love Jon fiercely, like Catelyn learned to love Ned.

“Your Grace.” Pycelle knocked at the door before entering the solar. Lyanna turned to look the man that had a sober face.

“Yes, Grand-Maester. What is it? I know Rhaegar is worried, but I feel just fine.” Lyanna said immediately.

“It’s not about Your Grace’s condition.” Pycelle answered cautiously. “I received the most unsettling message from Dragonstone and I thought you should be informed about it first.”

“What of Dragonstone?” Lyanna was suddenly worried.

“The maester there asked if Lord Robb and his wife had changed their minds about going to the island. Apparently the ship didn’t arrive.” The old man said.

“What?!” She took her hand to her mouth in shock. “What are you waiting to send word to every captain and every sailor to search for them?! It is impossible. The ship must be somewhere! That’s my brother’s son and heir, Pycelle. Robb and his wife must be found!”

“I already ordered that much, Your Grace.” Pycelle said humbly. “The captain said the crossing could be done that day, despite of the weather. I’m afraid that if the she has sunk it is unlikely that survivors will be found after two days lost. I came to Your Grace because...I thought you would prefer to tell Lord Stark yourself. Ser Benjen arrived this morning. I already told him about it and he took it upon himself to coordinate the mission. He will sail with a small group and search for either survivors, or corpses.”

“Inform the King at once. Rhaegar must know of this and everything that’s being done to find them.” Lyanna answered. “Gods be good! It will break Ned...Have the Prince brought here. I’ll tell my son about it. He loved his cousin well and he must be strong for Lady Arya’s sake. I want every septon and septa on their knees praying for a miracle. If the boy is returned to us safe and unharmed I swear I’ll have a house of charity built in gratitude. Tell Lord and Lady Stark to meet me at the godswood and come to me as soon as you have news.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Pycelle answered dutifully.

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

He had expect for it to be another long discussion about the betrothal between his daughter and the Prince. He thought it would be just another tedious affair or Lyanna being homesick and wishing for his presence. Gods...He would have been happy to submit to any of those things if the brief conversation with the Queen proved to be nothing but a nightmare.

“I am so sorry. We will do everything to find them.” Lyanna said in an attempt to sooth Cat, who was crying hysterically. “Benjen already left to look for them. We must have hope, Cat.”

His wife ignored the Queen and held to his clothes. Cat bagged him to tell her that to be a lie; to reassure her that their boy was just fine with his wife somewhere safe. No words came out of his mouth though. His blood turned cold and the only thing Ned could remember was the day he received the news about the deaths of Brandon and their Father.

Eddard surely knew grief in his life and he had experienced that over and over again, but he hadn’t be prepared to that. It wasn’t natural for a Father to bury a son as healthy and strong as Robb in times of peace.

“I’ll go with Benjen.” Ned finally said.

“No! No, you can’t! You won’t leave me here alone, Ned!” Cat shouted at him.

“I agree with Cat in this. You should stay with your wife and children right now. The gods know they will need you.” Lyanna tried to reason with him, but Ned was adamant about that.

“You can’t expect to hear this and stay here waiting patiently for news.” He turned to Lyanna with tears in his eyes as rage and grief took over his senses. “It’s my boy, Lyanna! My first born! I must find him and bring him safe back home!”

“I can’t say that I wouldn’t do the same in your place.” Lyanna answered calmly. “Go with Ben. I’ll stay here with your family and make sure they will wish for nothing. I still worship the old gods. I’ll be preying for Robb and Alys’ safe return. You are more then welcome to joining me in my prayers, Cat; the royal sept is at your disposal as well. Jon will keep Brandon and Arya company.”

“Your son will get nowhere near my children until I’m back.” His voice came out cold and harsh like winter itself. “I’ll won’t hear a word about betrothals and weddings while my son is lost at sea. The Prince won’t lay a hand on my daughter in my absence, nor speak a word to her while Arya while I’m gone. This whole madness of marriage feels like a curse already. With Robb lost it only gives me certainty.”

“I’ll respect your wishes in this because I understand why you feel this way. It’s useless for me to defend my son’s interests when you are clearly taken by suffer like this. This matters will be settled in a more appropriate opportunity.”

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

It never failed to impress Rhaegar how carrying his son was. When informed that his cousin disappeared at sea, Jon’s first impulse was to go to Maidens’ Vault to show his true concern and sympathy to the family. Eddard had already gone to joining Benjen in the search and Lady Stark had locked herself in her room, leaving only to pray at the royal sept.

Lady Arya, despite of their lover’s quarrel, had been the only one to thank him for the kindness and say that she would stay with her family for the following day in prayer. That was a subtle way to tell him she didn’t want to see the Prince and Jon decided to respect her wishes and feelings in that. Meanwhile he had kept company to his mother in her prayers at the godswood and often went to the Great Sept to light candles to the Seven. That afternoon, the King decided to pray with his son.

They both walked through the Sept in contemplative silence before they could light their candles. Jon placed one at the Mother’s altar for Alys, Robb and his own mother; one at the Father’s for Robb, Ned and the King; one at the Mainden’s for Lady Arya; and finally seven candles at the Stranger’s altar for mercy.

“We must have faith.” The King said as he placed his hand on Jon’s shoulder.

“I do have faith, but I also know that every hour without them being found lower the chances of them being alive.” Jon said miserably. “It’s all my fault. I should never have suggested it. I did it to impress Arya and now...I’ve lost both my friend and the woman I love.”

“Although you are a prince, you have no control over the weather. You couldn’t have known.” Rhaegar answered with sympathy. “As for your lady love, these are chaotic times. You had a lover’s quarrel and in due time it will be solved, but it might take a while longer because of this tragedy.”

“Somehow I doubt it.” Jon replied sourly. “Arya seemed determinate to hate me while I was there...Nearly bagging her to have me.”

“She accepted, hasn’t she? That’s all that you needed.” Rhaegar insisted. “She also said she loves you. Now she is upset over one silly mistake and taken by grief, as she should be over the loss of a sibling. Once this storm is over, you’ll have time to fix what must be fixed between you. At least she is aware of her position in this and I wouldn’t say it’s a hopeless case.”

“I’m not so sure if Lord Stark will keep his promise about this. He might change his mind and I couldn’t even say he isn’t right.” Jon sounded hopeless and lost in a way Rhaegar had never seen. Lyanna was right. Their son had little to no joy in his life and, now that he had found a bit of it, the gods decided to play their cruel games.

“I won’t lie to you about it. Eddard may indeed change his mind, but at this point the match is not only meant to secure your happiness. It is vital to reinforce our control over the North. The separatist rumors are getting worst. I demanded action from Lord Stark, but I would rather solve it with diplomacy than violence. Having a northern princess married to my heir would give them a sense of influence and autonomy, without actually leading to the North’s independence.” Rhaegar said soberly. “If Robb isn’t found, I won’t have this marriage happening without allowing the lady and her family a proper mourning period. We can have the betrothal announced, but you won’t have her before a year has passed. In times of war we don’t have the luxury of time, but during peace these things must be respected.”

“Is it possible that this chaos might lead us to war if Lord Stark breaks his promise?” Jon asked cautiously. The boy was learning the fine points of ruling at last.

“There is. It can be triggered by separatist lords that might see this tragedy as murder and Lady Arya’s position as the one of a hostage, even if it’s not the case. That’s why I’ll allow her to go back North and mourn her brother in peace for a year. I don’t want anyone to think that I’m keeping Ned’s precious girl in the capitol against her will. Once the mourning is over, you’ll go North representing me. You will listen to petitioners and you’ll show them how much the North is dear to our hearts. You’ll sign the marriage contract and you’ll wed your lady in front of a heart tree on the eve of your return. No consummation until you reach the capitol and we have a public ceremony performed, do you understand?”

“Yes, Father.” Jon agreed.

“By the time of your arrival your mother will have your brother or sister in her arms. We will have the most lavishing wedding ever seen and we will celebrate the second Pact of Ice and Fire. This dark times won’t last forever, son.”

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll enjoy it and reviews are highly appreciated.  
> Yes. You can also curse me for this chapter and I'll be fine with it.


	8. Chapter 8

Robb Stark and his wife Alys were presumed dead after a month of their disappearing at sea. The King declared an official mourning period to court and wore his black robes for a month. Jon and Queen would wear their mourning clothes for a year in respect to their lost relatives.

It felt like a minor inconvenient to wear the black for such a long time when he had lost his cousin and friend, along with his beloved’s trust. During those days the Prince haven’t been allowed to see Arya and their eyes only meat again at the memorial service in the Great Sept.

Arya had dark circles around her eyes and an emptiness in her expression. It felt like she had been utterly defeat and there was nothing left of her lively nature.

A contract promising her hand to the Prince was signed between Lord Stark and the King, but it was also agreed that no official announcement would be made until the mourning period was over. Arya would go back with her family to the North and Jon would only see her again in a year.

When the Starks were ready to leave, Jon was allowed to say farewell to his betrothed. His heart was full of sorrow and regrets. He shared her grief intimately, but to look at Arya only made him ashamed.

“Forgive me.” He asked again before kissing her hand. “I should never have offered Robb to go to Dragonstone. I never wished for it to happen.”

“I may have many things to blame you for, but this is not one of them.” Arya replied in a heartbreaking tone. “Robb grew to love you like a brother when he was determinate to thing of you as an evil creature. You only wanted to help.”

“You don’t hate me then?” Jon questioned unsure.

“I never said I hated you, only that you hurt me for betraying my trust. I suppose I’ll have to learn how to deal with it. A year is a long time after all.” Arya replied bitterly without looking at him.

“I’ll go North to escort you back. Meanwhile...Try to not think of me as a villain. I shall keep you in my heart and be faithful to you.” Jon didn’t know if Arya even cared about his so called fidelity. She could barely stand being close to him at that point. “I will write to you and Bran as often as I can.” She nod with her head briefly.

“I guess this is goodbye.” She finally said.

“For now.” Jon reminded her. “Next time I see you I hope you won’t be wearing black anymore. Farewell, my lady.” He kissed her forehead in a sign of respect and love before Arya could get on her horse.

With Arya gone, Jon’s sole source of happiness was the perspective of having a true brother or sister of his own. After three months the kingdom was informed of the Queen’s condition and rejoiced with the idea of another Targaryen heir.

His mother was glowing with happiness for being able to carry the pregnancy through those critical months. After all the miscarriages she had suffered, this time she was hopeful and thrilled about having another child.

“Your first born and your sister will grow together.” The Queen said to him once.

“How do you know it is a girl?” Jon asked while allowing that gentle warmth to grow in his chest.

“I just feel it.” Lyanna answered with a smile. “I want to call her Lyarra, after my mother, but I doubt Rhaegar will have it. He will probably prefer to name her Rhaella or Rhaenyra.”

“As long as it’s a healthy little thing, I couldn’t care less about the name.” Jon said before kissing the Queen’s forehead.

Months passed and he observed from a distance his parents new found bliss. It seemed that the King and Queen had finally allowed themselves to be happy for a change and the baby’s imminent arrival made the feeling even stronger.

Jon saw his mother’s belly growing month by month. Her gowns became looser and after the seventh month it was difficult for her to move around as she used to. The Prince visited her daily to keep her company.

Once a week he would write Arya to tell her everything about court and how life was a bit meaningless without her. When he realized that no answer would ever come from her, Jon decided to write only once a month and then not write at all. With Brandon communication had been somewhat steady. Since Robb’s death, his younger cousin would often find in Jon a friend and a reference for the kind of problems that he would face as Lord Stark’s heir. Jon tried to be as solicit as possible and soon he found in Bran a good friend.

The Queen’s confinement started two months before the birth. His mother had resumed his public duties and was restricted to her apartments where she would be assisted by her ladies-in-waiting. The King would visit her frequently, just to make sure she was doing fine, while Jon was forbidden to visit her.

There was a sense of optimism in court. The nursery had been prepared and nurses had been picked. At any moment the new prince or princess would come into the world and Jon couldn’t help filling anxious.

“I never thought I would live this experience again.” The King confessed to him one night after having supper with Jon. “After a while I just...I assumed we wouldn’t have more children. I was sure that the next birth I would attend would be that of your first child.”

“I’m really happy for you, Father. I’m happy for both of you.” Jon said with honesty as he raised his chalice in a toast.

“Any news from the North?” Rhaegar asked him.

“I haven’t received a word from Arya since she left the capitol.” His voice was full of frustration and annoyance. “Bran says she is well. Healthy and willful as ever. Lord Stark apparently allowed her to have a teacher in sword fighting.”

“That’s unusual, but then I remember how I met your mother. It makes sense for that family to raise a bunch of she-wolfs. In a few months you’ll go North to bring her back. I’m sure you’ll have time to solve this misunderstanding.”

“I hope so.” Jon forced himself to smile.

“The news I’ve been receiving are way more worrisome.” The King confessed. “Your uncle is being utterly inefficient in which concerns the repression of the separatists. Even if Eddard has no sympathy to me, it is unusual for him to be so relapse in his duties even if he is still grieving over Robb’s death.”

“Does Mother knows about it?” Jon questioned.

“No and I would like to keep it this way.” His Father sounded tired. “I must say that your marriage to the Stark girl can’t happen fast enough for my taste.”

“Do you think Lord Stark supports their cause?”

“No. It would be very incoherent to his personality and honor. Besides, Eddard wouldn’t do a thing that might hurt Lyanna. I just don’t exclude the possibility of someone from his household being sympathetic to the cause.” Rhaegar threw his head back a bit. “We need the North, Jon. I’m not getting any younger and three kingdoms raising in rebellion isn’t something easy to deal with. Gods forbid, but...Without your mother there would be at war for a while now. Lyanna helped me to hold the country together, but this alliance must be reinforced soon. If I die before this matter is solved, you’ll have Viserys on your throat pretty soon. Dorne isn’t half as threatening then a bunch of northerners raised in rebellion, but it’s still a difficult opponent. Your uncle should be the first one to protect your claim given your blood ties to his house, but it doesn’t seem it will be so easy. If he won’t protect his nephew’s claim, than he must protect his grandchildren’s claims.”

“I would like uncle Benjen to come with me.” Jon declared. “I believe Lord Stark is more likely to listen to uncle Benjen than me. He also knows the northerners better than I do, so he will keep me out of trouble.”

“This is a wise decision. Benjen is certainly the ideal choice.” His Father sounded like a man taken by angst. “You’ll also command a small army to make sure you’ll be able to carry your duties. You’ll be invested of royal authority. If nothing is done by Eddard, than you will conduct the inquiries and judgments. You are to perform the King’s Justice in my name. You’ll leave as soon as your the child is born and the first thing to be done once you reach Winterfell is to have your uncle signing the marriage contract and making a public announcement of it. Let us hope it will be enough to put an end to this ridiculous rebellion.”

§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

 

The pain started in the middle of the night. At first it felt more like discomfort than real pain, but soon the servants were calling for the midwives and the maester.

Her body was covered in sweat as the birth progressed. It was a terrifying experience made of pain and sheets tainted in vivid blood. The Queen cried and screamed, but nothing seemed capable of making it any easier. Lyanna was afraid in a way she hasn’t been since Jon’s birth. Afraid for her child and afraid for herself.

“The King!” She said between a scream and another. “I need him! Call Rhaegar!”

A servant girl ran out of the room to obey her order while Lyanna felt a towel soaked in cold water pressed to her forehead.

She didn’t know how long it had been, but Rhaegar came to her side. The King knelled by her side and held her hand tightly. For a brief second Lyanna didn’t feel so afraid and lonely.

“I’m here.” He said to her as he dried the sweat from her face with a towel. “You are not alone, my love.”

Those words gave her strength to fight a bit more.

Rhaegar’s face was pale and he looked frightened too. It seemed that she had no more blood to spare and she could no longer push the baby. She vaguely heard someone saying the child was stuck.

_I’ll die._ The thought came to her mind clearly, but she would do everything to deliver her baby.

The pain became excruciating once more and Lyanna cried out loud for her dead mother, as if Lady Lyarra could somehow make the pain stop.

“It’s here! We can see the head!” A midwife said.

_I’m strong enough. I’ll make through it._ Lyanna allowed herself a brief minute of hope and suddenly the pained stopped and a cry was heard.

“It’s girl!” The Queen smiled faintly at that. She had been right. She had a daughter.

They handled the baby to Rhaegar first and the King held the tinny thing in his hands. He looked at the baby with pride and affection. When he turned to Lyanna, Rhaegar was smiling. He placed the child in her arms.

Her daughter was perfect like the summer snow and the blessed silence of the godswood.

“Take care of her.” Lyanna said faintly. “Promise me, Rhaegar.”

“Stop saying nonsense.” Rhaegar said before kissing Lyanna’s forehead. “We will take care of her together.”

“We won’t.” Lyanna insisted. Her voice was almost whisper as she felt her strength vanishing. “Promise me...Jon. Take care of...”

Her eyes looked over Rhaegars shoulder and Lyanna saw at the corner of the room a tall woman with a pale face and long dark hair looking at her kindly. By the woman’s side two men stood; one young and one old. Their faces were familiar and dear. She wasn’t alone after all.

“ _Don’t be afraid.”_ She hear another feminine voice, gentle and delicate like a breeze. Lyanna turned her head to the other side and she saw her.

A Dornish beauty from a lifetime ago. She was holding a baby in her arms while a little girl grabbed her skirt.

“ _You won’t be alone.”_ Lyanna should have feared that voice. That ghost had haunted her life and the Queen had feared the consequences of facing the Princess.

To Lyanna’s surprise, Elia looked at her with piety and mercy. Lyanna was aware she didn’t deserve forgiveness for her crimes and the Dornish Princess, more than anyone, should curse her dying breath. Instead of it, Elia was there to ease her conscience and fears.

The last thing Lyanna heard was Rhaegar screaming her name in despair.

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

They took his daughter away and Rhaegar held Lyanna’s lifeless body in his arms calling her name. She was just sleeping. She had to be.

They had a daughter. A frail and beautiful daughter that needed her mother. Lyanna couldn’t simply go and leave them behind, not when they had just found a bit of happiness in their marriage. Not when their daughter needed her so much.

Jon...Jon was about to get married. Lyanna had to stand by his side when it happened. She had to see their first grandchild. Lyanna…

Lyanna couldn’t die! He forbid it! She was supposed to get old by his side! He was supposed to go first…

“Let her go, Your Grace.” He heard a sober voice behind him. “Let Lya go.”

Benjen knelled by his side with his face covered in tears.

“Let my sister go.” He bagged. “She is with Father, Mother and Brandon now.”

“Uncle Benjen if right, Father.” Jon’s voice was cut by a sob. “Let Mother rest in peace.”

Jon walked toward Lyanna’s body and closed her eyes before kissing her forehead. The Prince knelled with him and Benjen. All of them united by one devastating feeling.

 

§§§§§§§§§§

 

He had no more tears to shed. During the nights he cried alone in his room because that was the only moment of vulnerability he was allowed to have.

The King had locked himself inside his rooms and no one knew for sure if Rhaegar was even sane at that point. It was up to Jon to take care of important matters such as his mother’s funeral.

The Small Council had made all the arrangements for the Queen to be given to the flames, as it was the Targaryen tradition. With the King absent, the decision was likely to be made by Lord Arryn, but at least the old Hand had the decency of asking the Prince’s opinion.

“My Lady Mother is to be buried in our godswood.” Jon said mindlessly. “I would take her to Winterfell if I could, but I won’t prevent the King from the solace of having his wife near. My Mother is to rest under the heart tree.”

No one dared to question his decision and since the King was nowhere to be seen, Jon was the only member of the royal family near to be consulted. His time was divided between the funeral’s preparation, urgent matters that needed to be addressed and his newborn sister’s needs.

The King hadn’t named the little princess yet, so Jon decided to call her by a name of his choice. He named her Visenya. Every day he would go to the nursery and asked the women about the Princess. Jon knew nothing of babies, except that they cried a lot, but he would always spend at least an hour with his sister. Little Visenya had no one to look after her but her big brother.

He decided to postpone his journey to Winterfell for a few months. Once the funeral had been realized and his Father decided to get out of his room, Jon would think about the North. At that point being rejected by Arya almost felt like a pleasant memory.

Lord Stark wrote him a brief note of condolences and said the North was in mourning for the death of Lyanna. Jon wrote him back promising a statue of her to be placed at the crypts of Winterfell so she would be remembered there as well.

Brandon sounded more affectionate and carrying in his letter to Jon. He wished Visenya good health and offered Jon his unconditional support. Jon was grateful to see that at least one Stark didn’t hate him.

He never expected to receive a letter from Arya though. When the maester said that he had received a letter from Lady Arya, Jon could barely believe his ears. When he held the parchment in his hands, the Prince considered if he should open it or not. In the end his curiosity won and he broke the seal.

“ _Dear Jon,_

_At such a dark hour, I don’t even know what to say to offer you some comfort. The gods know that I was never prepared to lose my brother and I can only imagine how difficult it must be to you to lose your Lady Mother._

_Her Grace was a good woman and, even without knowing her well, she had always been gentle and kind to me. Without her smile court surely looks gloomy._

_Father is desolated and we walk together to the godswood everyday to pray for her. I also had candles burning at the Mother’s and the Stranger’s altar for her and the Princess._

_I hope time will heal this wound so you can learn to smile again._

_Sincerely,_

_Arya”_

 

Arya’s words were gentle and sincere, but all impersonal and a bit cold. Jon chose to believe that at least Arya cared enough to write it, but every time he thought about riding up North his stomach twisted with anxiety.

Two days before the funeral, the King summoned him. Jon hoped that to be a sign that his father had recovered his sanity and went to him as fast as he could.

When he entered the room it was clear that Rhaegar had given up living. The place was dark with only a few candles lit. The smell inside the room was nauseous and Jon saw the King laid on his bed. His eyes were half dead, his face hadn’t been shaved and his hair hadn’t been washed in days.

“There’s a document on my desk. Please fetch it.” The King said absently. Jon obeyed without questioning and took the paper to his Father’s hands, before seating by his side. “I don’t know why you are still here and not half way North.”

“It was impossible for me to go before my Mother’s funeral.” Jon answered. “She will be buried...”

“In the godswood. I know.” The King said. “It was very thoughtful of you. Jon Arryn was informed already. I’ve named you Prince Regent and Visenya’s tutor from now on.

“Why?” Jon looked at him confused. “You are not ill, Father. You are the King and Visenya’s father. The kingdom and my sister need you.”

“We both know madness runs in this family like a plague.” Rhaegar said feebly. “Grief might yet drain my wits and neither the realm or my daughter should suffer because of it. Now that...Now that Lyanna is gone, our relations with the North are weakened. You must go to Winterfell as soon as the funeral is over and do what I’ve already instructed you to do. Visenya is too young, the North is a barrel of wildfire and Viserys must be drinking to your Mother’s death as we speak. You don’t have much time. Varys has his little birds all around Sunspear and Winterfell. You’ll be regularly informed about potential threats. You must not underestimate my brother. He is a fool, but still dangerous. You’ll also have to point another Hand soon. Arryn is getting too old and sick to do the job. Think carefully of who you’ll chose; surround yourself with powerful allies, but never restrict your options too much.”

“I’ll do as you say, Father.” Jon answered dutifully. Rhaegar looked at him with utter sadness in his eyes. The King touched Jon’s face gently.

“Soon you’ll have your own children. It will be for the best for Visenya to be raised as one of them. Lyanna would like if our daughter lived a happy life and I believe you and your bride will be able to provide her with a true home. I can only give her my own tragedy and she deserves better. You deserved better.”

“I’ll raise my sister as mother would have liked, but you must find your strength to take care of her while I’m out of the capitol. I’ll come back as soon as I can.” At least with that the King agreed.

The whole court attended the funeral. Even Daenerys and Viserys came to King’s Landing for the occasion. Jon managed to convince the King to attend and Rhaegar made his first public appearance since Lyanna’s death to put an end to all the rumors about his sanity.

Jon held Visenya in his arms during the whole time as if the baby was the only thing giving him strength to survive that day. He had to be strong for her sake. He had a responsibility to her and his sister would never feel unloved even if she had no mother to look after her.

When the funeral was over and only a marble board would remember the future generations that the Queen of Love and Beauty rested under the heart tree, Jon felt exhausted.

Daenerys and Renly paid their condolences to Jon and the King. They also wished the princess a long and healthy life. Dany had always been friendly toward him, but during childhood the Queen Mother made sure of keeping them apart as much as possible.

Jon was about to go back to his chambers to prepare for his journey to the North, after handling the baby to the nurse, when Viserys got in his way with a joyous smile.

“Well, well...The two wolf pups.” He said in a poisonous tone. “The Black Bastard and the Murderer Bitch.”

“Get out of my way, Viserys. I have no time to deal with you now and I certainly won’t have you anywhere near the child.” Jon replied angrily, but Viserys seemed determinate to make him furious. “I don’t even know why you bothered to attend the funeral at all.”

“And miss the chance of seeing the whore dead? I had to see it with my own eyes my brother’s harlot being given to the worms. Now I’ll only have to kill you when I’m king and it will be a true pleasure. If I’m feeling merciful I’ll have this little bitch given to the Silent Sisters, but I guess I’ll be more inclined to throw her to the dogs to eat.”

Blind rage took over his senses and before Jon could even formulate a coherent thought his right hand reached Viserys throat while the other went straight to the dagger Jon carried with him.

“You should be careful of what you say, pathetic snake.” Jon growled in rage. “I’m no longer the boy you used to hurt and scare. If you dare to get on my way once more I’ll slit you open from throat to cock, have your head on a spike and throw your intestines to the hogs. If you get anywhere near Visenya I’ll flay you alive and them have your body divided. Each piece will go to a different kingdom so Westeros will know what happens to those who get on my way.”

Viserys’ face was petrified with fear as Jon’s fingers closed around his throat slowly. The chocking sounds were truly delightful and he wouldn’t mind killing his mad uncle for the audacity of insulting the Queen, but he let go of Viserys’ throat.

Viserys didn’t dare to speak a word after that. He ran away as soon as possible and vanished among the courtiers. When Jon recovered his reason the first thing he felt was a hand place on his shoulder.

“You must leave to Winterfell now.” The King’s voice was cold and sharp. “I’ll make sure Visenya is safe while you are gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I'll stop killing people for a while and let you guys breathe.  
> I hope you'll like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


	9. Chapter 9

Winter was coming. She could feel it in her bones since the day they received the news of Robb’s disappearance. The age of innocence was gone. Arya was no longer the young girl trying to live up to absurd expectations and being more like her sister. She was herself and she realized that herself was good enough for the times to come.

Her mother had given up life entirely. Lady Catelyn’s days were divided between the sept and her own chambers, where she would pray day and night for Robb to return. With her father constantly busy with other matters and his own grief, and Bran trying to learn his duties as soon as possible, managing the castle became Arya’s duty.

There was this notion that it wouldn’t be for long, but as the months passed and Jon stopped writing her, Arya hoped the marriage would no longer happen. She didn’t want to go back to King’s Landing. She didn’t want to feel the taste of betrayal, nor live her life confined to a golden cage, even though Jon’s company was something she came to cherish and miss.

Arya read all the letters. He would write to her to tell about everything he thought might of her interest, but he didn’t dare mentioning the betrothal or any sort of preparations being made. It was obvious that Jon was trying to regain her trust and give her space to come to terms with what had already been decided.

A year was a lot of time though and much could change, especially with the Queen being with child again.

During their time in King’s Lading and given her silly feelings for the Prince, Arya had nearly believed that being tied to the Iron Throne wasn’t a bad thing, as her father hoped. The North had a certain level of autonomy and they were left in peace most of the time. Even Robb had soften in his resolution at the time, but with her brother’s death Arya could think of nothing else but her people independence.

She knew the names and the codes. Separatist Lords and commoners who supported the cause had saw in her a sympathetic ear and a significant influence in Lord Stark’s household.

Bran didn’t like it when she spoke of the cause because he feared their father, but one day he would be Lord Stark and he would be free to think whatever he wanted to think. They had argued several times and, although he avoided the topic, Bran had never silenced her whenever Arya was presenting her arguments.

She knew that her brother’s reluctance had more to do with his friendship to Jon than with a proper sense of loyalty to the Iron Throne. It would be only a matter of time until the Prince disappointed Bran too and when it happened her brother would see reason.

Ruling the castle allowed her to provide the rebels some resources, but not much. Her Father constantly checked the stocks and the books with Vyon Pool, so Arya’s major activity in the cause was to convince Bran and eventually send news to others of events that might be of some relevance.

One day her brother would be named King of Winter and her family would no longer bow to the King in The Iron Throne. Her family would no longer submit to the capricious will of another Targaryen without a chance to refuse. Arya would belong to no one but herself.

That was her plan and Arya judged her will to be strong enough to make her see the end of it until the raven came.

Her father summoned her and Brandon to his office. Arya wondered if it had something to do with yet another demand from Rhaegar, but she was shocked to find her father crying silently.

“The Queen is dead.” He said it in a heartbreaking tone. “Lyanna died in childbirth.”

For a moment Arya didn’t know what to say or think. It seemed impossible for a woman like the Queen to simply die of something so...Natural. Her aunt had been still young and certainly strong enough to give birth.

“What of the child, Father?” Bran asked soberly.

“The girl survived.” He said soberly. “Both the Prince and Benjen say she is healthy. Rhaegar seems to have lost his wits. He won’t leave his chambers. The Prince and Lord Arryn rule in his place for now.”

“What will be of her? Will they burn the Queen like they do to all Targaryens?” Arya asked fearfully.

“Jon...The Prince says she will be buried in the godswood in the Red Keep. We were invited to attend, but I believe she will be buried in the following days. We wouldn’t be able to make it in time.” Her father closed his eyes as if he were in pain.

“Poor Jon.” Bran said miserably. “He must be devastate. I’ll...I’ll write to him. I guess it’s the only thing I can do.”

They left their father’s office in solemn silence. The only thing Arya could think about was how lonely and miserable Jon certainly was feeling.

“I’ll go to the sept. Do you want to come along?” Arya asked her brother soberly.

“Why would you do that? I thought you would be celebrating the news. Jon just lost his mother and his grief is likely to delay him. You probably won’t be married for another year and Rhaegar seems to be getting as mad as his father. Isn’t it the perfect time for your dear separatists to act? No one will notice you’ve been dealing with traitors until it is too late.”

“I’m not half as heartless as you think. I may not wish for us to remain under the Iron Throne’s control, but it doesn’t mean that I take any joy from our aunt’s death or Jon’s suffering. Gods...She left a baby behind and a son who devoted his life to her happiness.” Arya replied angrily as they walked towards the sept. “Besides...He did the same for Robb and Alys. You can call me mad or heartless, but I don’t usually forget someone’s kindness.”

“Who do you think will be sent to deal with this rebels when they decide to do something about it? You still have sympathy for him and you are sorry about his mother, but he would still be sent to fight. What if he died because of this cause you think to be so fair?” Bron replied sadly and to that Arya had no answer.

They both went to the sept and lit their candles in honor to Lyanna’s memory. After saying her prays to the Seven, Arya went to the godswood. Her aunt had been a northerner and her gods were those carved in trees.

_I don’t know if there is an afterlife, but if such a thing exists...Please, let my aunt find peace and take her to grandmother and grandfather. As for the living...Protect the baby who has done nothing to deserve a motherless life. Give my Father comfort and don’t let Rhaegar to grow mad and violent. As for Jon...Let him learn to smile again._

That night she wrote him for the first time to pay her condolences. She tried to be kind and loving as a bride should be, but Arya couldn’t bring herself to forget how he had acted behind her back. In the end the best she managed was a polite and impersonal letter that Jon didn’t bother to answer.

Nearly a month passed without news from the capitol. As Bran suggested, the separatists saw in Lyanna’s death a sign that their last connection to the Iron Throne had been lost and a said northern prince no one had ever seen wasn’t good enough to buy their loyalty. Witless Rhaegar wouldn’t be able to hold the realm and gentle prince wouldn’t survive on his own.

Arya knew better than to underestimate Jon and the King. Even if Rhaegar was truly mad, Jon would never fail to protect his father’s legacy. He would do whatever he must to hold the kingdom together. That should have been enough for Arya to realize the danger that was coming her way.

She had just arrived from a riding to Wintertown when Jeyne Poole came to her running.

“What is it, Jeyne?” Arya asked as she dismounted her horse.

“Lord Stark said my lady should wash yourself immediately. I’m to help you to get dressed and to comb your hair.” Jeyne said.

“Why? Do we have visitors tonight? Who is it?” Arya asked.

“The Prince Regent, my lady. The raven just arrived. They are almost at Winterfell.”

“Prince Regent? What…? Why haven’t we be informed earlier of his arrival? The castle isn’t prepared to receive a royal party.”

“Lord Stark was informed. Don’t worry. Ser Benjen says they are bringing their own provisions for a short visit. The guards are to raise camp around the castle.”

“How many guards?” Arya asked cautiously.

“Two hundred, my lady.” Jeyne answered in a fearful tone and she had reason to feel that ways.

That wasn’t a peaceful visit, nor was Jon riding North just to claim Arya as his bride. With an army of two hundred man under his command and the tittle of Prince Regent, Jon was coming North with one purpose only. Without the Queen to help to hold the kingdom together, Rhaegar would reinforce his power by force and his son was as good as King now.

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

The journey up North had been tiresome and anything but comfortable. Along the way his finer clothes had been put aside in favor of warmer and comfortable ones. No more linen, silk, damasks or fine velvet. They had all been replaced by leather, wool and furs. He probably looked twice his size under all those layers, but that was better than to lose a finger or two because of the cold.

Benjen had laughed at him openly and Jon had to agree that he probably looked ridiculous. Even children seemed to think so whenever they crossed a village or a farm.

Lord Stark had been informed of their imminent arrival once they reached Howland Reed’s lands. Reed was not the richest man in the world, but he was certainly loyal to the bone both to Lord Stark and Lyanna’s memory. Reed’s children would follow the royal party to Winterfell in sign of respect.

They crossed the country way faster than Jon expected. As they march progressed Jon could feel he was getting deeper into hostile territory.

Lord Stark had been instructed to invite his banners to the Prince’s wedding to Lady Arya. Once the ceremony was done, Jon would have every lord and lady renewing their loyalties to the Iron Throne. He didn’t expect Arya to be happy about the hasted wedding, but it was the best he could do under those circumstances.

“You’ll need to visit the mountain clans.” Benjen said once they were near Winterfell. “Old and proud people that know how to reward a King that bothers to listen to their problems.”

“I said all the banners, haven’t I? I expect that Lord Stark will have all these clans invited as well. I can’t afford leaving anyone out of this bargain.” Jon answered sharply. “I can barely wait to see your home, uncle. Especially the fireplaces.”

“Aye! I hope your humor will improve once your ass is warm again. I’ve never seen you so grumpy before.” Benjen answered teasingly.

“I never understood why northerners had sour faces. Now I know.” Jon answered. “Laughs freeze inside their throats.”

“You’ll want to be in a lighter mood when you seat to deal with Ned.” Ben warned. “It would also be for the best if you greeted your bride with a smile instead of a frown.”

“My uncle is more likely to respect a sour Regent than his sister’s little boy. It’s not as if the matter hasn’t been previously discussed. Lord Stark just has to sign and put his seal in it. As for my bride...I doubt Arya even cares if I’m dead or alive at this point.”

“You surely don’t look like the boy she knew a year ago. It wouldn’t kill if you had a clean shave and a haircut before seeing her. You look like an old bear.” Benjen seemed to be in a good mood since they crossed the Neck.

“And I’m about to have my Maiden Fair.” Jon replied in a twisted sense of humor. “I would do as you say if it wasn’t so cold. At least the hair keeps my face warmer. Besides, I thought the northerner ladies preferred their man more...Unrefined.”

Benjen was silenced by the sight of the might fortress in the horizon. Winterfell’s gray walls and towers were even more magnificent than Jon had imagined. Older and bigger than the Red Keep, the castle had an aura of power and resilience. Winters would come and go, but Winterfell would stand with its crypt and hear tree.

The gates were opened and Jon entered the courtyard followed by Benjen and Baristan, who would serve as his bodyguards. Ser Arthur Dayne asked to stay to protect the King and Princess Viseny, which Jon agreed immediately.

Lord and Lady Stark were waiting for him with their whole household. All of them sober and hard like Winterfell itself. The only one Jon couldn’t see was Arya.

“Welcome to Winterfell, Your Highness.” Lord Stark said before bowing. “We feel for your lost greatly and we thank your generosity in honoring my sister’s traditions and wishes. I’ll never be able to thank you enough.” Jon didn’t know what to say. There was a knot in his throat and he felt the sudden urge to cry, but he couldn’t. He was not Lyanna’s boy anymore. He was Prince Regent in a rebellious land. He needed to be respected and feared.

“Thank you, my lord. She was very dear to both of us and after so many years...It didn’t feel right to exclude you from this moment. My wish was to take her body with me so she could rest in her old home among her kin; but it didn’t feel right to deny my Father and Princess Visenya her presence.”

“Is it the name Rhaegar chose to Lyanna’s daughter?” His uncle asked with evident distaste for it.

“My mother didn’t have time to name her and the King’s condition didn’t allow him to. I chose the name knowing you wouldn’t approve, but it was fair that my sister would have a Targaryen name while I had a northerner.” Jon explained. “Visenya is healthy and adorable as any infant should be. She inherited the Targaryen looks. I left an army of nurses and two King’s Guards looking after her.”

“I’m glad to know the child is in good health and being cared for.” Lord Stark answered gratefully before Jon could turn to greet Lady Stark while Benjen hugged his brother.

“I’m still sorry for your son and daughter, my lady. Robb was a dear friend to me and I miss him terribly.” Jon said before kissing Lady Stark’s hand.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” The woman had a teary voice and looked like a ghost of the handsome lady he had known in King’s Landing. _Mother would have been the same in her place._

Jon turned to Brandon, who had grown a great deal since the last time they met. He was growing into a handsome lad with kind eyes and warm smile.

“My dear friend.” He was the only one Jon embraced. “Your letters were to me a great comfort. I shall not forget your kindness to me.”

“Your Highness was very generous to us when my brother was lost. It was only fair.” Bran answered as he returned the embrace. “You are to become my brother soon. Brothers look after each other.” Jon mussed Bran’s hair and smiled at him fondly.

“Yes, they do.” Jon agreed. “Where is Lady Arya? I thought she would be here to greet me.”

“She was still bathing when we called her.” Bran said. “Fear not. She will be with us soon and she will be smelling of flowers.”

“I won’t complain about her absence if my lady is making herself pretty to meet me later. I should probably do the same. I smell of dust, pinewood and horseshit.” Jon said in an attempt of humor, although he was sure Arya meant that absence as an insult to him.

“The servants will have a bath ready for Your Highness in a few minutes.” Lady Stark said in an apathetic tone.

“Thank you, Lady Stark.” Jon said before turning to his uncle again. “While I wait, I would like to have word with you privately, Uncle.”

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

When the Prince got down from his horse Ned could barely believe him to be the same boy he met a year ago. Jon seemed to have aged ten years in one. He had dark circles around his eyes, his dark hair reaching his shoulders and had grown a beard. His clothes were those of a true northerner and he wore a breastplate with the Targaryen Dragon. What truly worried Ned was that Jon’s warmth had deserted the boy.

Once they entered Ned’s office, Jon seemed to relax a bit. Eddard offered him a glass of wine and he drunk it in a single gulp before taking a seat.

“It’s good to feel warm again. It makes me less grumpy, as uncle Benjen says.” Jon said in an impatient tone. “I won’t take much of your time Uncle, but there are things I can not wait to solve.”

“I’m still curious about your requests and the need of two hundred man armed at my door. What is it that Rhaegar wants? He thinks my daughter will run away?” Ned asked outraged. Jon gave him a cold smile in return.

“A year ago, before you lost your son and heir, the King demanded action from you. Rebellion was taking root in the North and you were instructed to put an end to it before it even started properly.” Jon answered in the most straightforward way possible. “I can understand that Robb’s death must have cause a number of problems and I’m not heartless to think that you could carry on your duties as if nothing had happened. The matter wouldn’t be so urgent if my mother hadn’t died. My Father wants this separatist talking finished for good and the North to remember where its loyalty should rest, so I’m taking over the duty of dealing with these separatists in the King’s behalf.”

“I wasn’t even informed that an army would cross the North until you reached the Neck and if it wasn’t for Reed I would probably know of it when your men reached my door.” Eddard answered sharply. “What does it mean, Jon?”

“My Father fears that many will feel inclined to thing that the North has no more ties to the Iron Throne, making the Northern Independence easier to obtain. I had to move fast to get them by surprise.” Jon answered as a matter of fact. “My journey to Winterfell serves to different purposes, but my priority is to remember the North that we do not need permission to march through the land. From now on I’ll conduct the inquiries and make the King’s Justice while you and your family will take care of the arrangements for my wedding to your daughter. As a wedding gift I’ll have all of your banners renewing their loyalties to the Iron Throne. I won’t stay here for long. Once I’ve dealt with the rebels and claimed my bride, I’ll go back to King’s Landing and you won’t have to see my face again for a while.”

“I hear your voice and yet you sound like another person entirely.” Eddard said while trying to conceal his fear. “You are not the boy I met a year ago. There’s nothing of my sister’s son in you.”

Jon’s jawline got tense and his eyes red with contained tears. He forced himself to swallow the pain and keep the cold mask.

“The boy you knew is dead.” Jon answered with anger. “He is resting under a heart tree by his mother’s side. Father gave me no solace or comfort in my grief. He named Regent and gave me a kingdom to rule instead, while he remains in his rooms. Treacherous shadows surround me and there’s a vicious snake in Dorne eager to usurp me of the crown at the first chance. If I am to rule, the kingdom must know me and I count on you and your family’s. support You may not like me enough to defend my crown, but I’m sure you’ll love your daughter and the children we will have until your last breath. You’ll fight for them if not for me.”

“I would have fought for you anyway, even if you weren’t my sister’s son. My honor demands that much. Good luck handling my daughter now. Arya will never agree with this marriage when the man she accepted is nowhere to be found.” Ned warned him, but those words didn’t seem to affect the man as Ned thought they would.

“You already agreed with this arrangement. You knew the terms and the time you and your family would have. I’m hear to claim my bride and now you and I will sign the contract. I’ll deal with Arya’s feelings on the matter later.”

Ned’s fears grew at Jon’s every word. It was one thing to discuss and negotiate with a boy or even the King when both parts had time to spare and stood in somewhat even conditions. It was another thing entirely to discuss with a man whose joy had died and had two hundred armed man standing outside the castle.

Lord Stark could only pray for Arya to be wise enough to accept her fate, and clever enough to cover any trace of her sympathy to the separatist cause. Ned would rather have Arya married to the man, then beheaded by him.

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

As they washed her clean and combed her hair the words “Prince Regent” kept coming to her mind. Arya looked outside her window and saw the soldiers raising camp. Although Rhaegar was still alive, Jon was the real King.

If once she had the opportunity to deny him and her awareness of her vulnerable position made Arya chose the safe path to her family, now she it was unlikely that Jon would bother to listen to her complains. If she tried to escape, or attempt against the wedding, it was likely that she would be dragged to the godswood buy his guards.

She was doomed; practically imprisoned in her own house while the separatist would soon be hunted down and killed like rabbits. Jon had been a good and honorable man, always kind, solicit and eager to please her. Arya could only hope to play those qualities to her favor and save as many of her countrymen as possible.

She had been dressed in a heavy light blue dress with a white coat made of damask over it. It was probably the most expensive thing she ever wore in her life. Her hair had only half braided so it would fall over her back like a cascade. They put pearls around her neck and winter roses in her hair.

Bran came to escort her to the Great Hall and Arya thought she would faint half way.

“You wouldn’t feel half as tense if you haven’t spent a year ignoring the man.” Bran said as they walked. “I don’t know what you thought you would gain from it.”

“Maybe he would give up.” Arya said as a matter of fact.

“You can naive as you are willful. He is the crown prince and you are probably the ideal bride to a man of his stature, especially if he needs all the political alliances he can get.” Bran answered calmly. “You could have played his feelings to your favor and have a devoted man at your feet. In your place I would be praying for him to have a forgiving heart in need of tenderness after his mother’s death.”

“We would never have to go through this if we were independent already.” Arya said stubbornly. “Father could be King, you would be King after him.”

“Even if I were King in the North and the Prince Regent of Westeros came to me asking for your hand, I wouldn’t think twice before signing the marriage contract and wish him happiness with his new wife. He would still be our neighbor, cousin and he would still have a huge army under his command. Quit this madness you and Robb dreamed about before it kills all of us.” Bran replied sharply. “You speak of Father or I becoming King while your son will be King of the Seven Kingdoms because of this marriage without a single life being spared in the process. Now smile and pretend to be the most harmless and helpless woman of the country.”

The Great Hall was packed with Jon’s party. Knights, maesters, page boys, cup barrers and musicians turned the usually sober northern court into a lively thing. The Prince Regent had taken the place of honor and there was an empty seat meant for her by his side.

Jon looked straightly at her when she was announced and Arya’s heart turned into a war drum.

The boy she knew had vanished and only this strange and hard man stood in his place. Jon’s hair was longer and he had grown a beard. He was all dressed in black and looked mighty under his heavy fur and velvet coat. His eyes were tired, lifeless and full of pain.

Jon rose from his seat once Arya reached the table. He had no smiles to offer her, but his eyes grew darker.

“My Lady is a blessed vision to my tired eyes.” He said before bowing his head lightly. “I’ve missed you dearly.”

“Your Highness looks...Different.” Arya pointed, making Jon look at her curiously.

“Uncle Benjen said I looked like an old bear. What do you think?” He asked with a foreign hint of sarcasm in his voice. There was no sweetness left in him. Only the bitterness of grief. “Do I scare you now?”

“You never could. The hair and the beard suit you better than a smooth face. Makes you fearsome.” Arya said before taking the seat by his side.

“I hoped you would like me better this way.” He said before taking her hand and kissing the back of it.

The banquet was an event that the North would remember for years to come. To Arya’s surprise, Jon and her Father signed the marriage contract in front of the whole northern court. Even if it was only a promise of marriage, now it was a public affair and both of them couldn’t get rid of it easily.

When Jon presented the document to the crowd, the musicians started to play The Bear and The Maiden Fair. Arya tried to not see that as a petty revenge against her.

Once the banquet was over and she excused herself to go back to her room, Jon asked for a private audience with her at her father’s office. Even if the request sounded inappropriate, Jon already had the promise of marriage. If he did anything to damage her good name it would only serve for the wedding to be anticipated.

When they entered the room, Arya was shocked to see the amount of treasures that had been placed there. Two trunks filled with gold and silver, jewelries, carpets from Essos, several pieces of the finest fabrics and a number of furs.

“What is this?” Arya asked as she turned to face him.

“My wedding gifts to you.” He answered. “Your wedding dress might need a few adjustments, but it should be easy enough to have it ready in time.”

“Don’t I have a say in how I’ll look like on my own wedding?” Arya asked cautiously.

“You chose to speak now? After a year of cold silence?” His voice was cold and almost indifferent. “What could you possibly have to say about it except you distaste for the arrangement and how I’ve acted behind your back?”

“I know what I did and how bitter you might be over it, but I don’t argue with you, Jon.” Arya cut him immediately. “Not when you are obviously breaking under the weight of the responsibility over your shoulders and the grief for your mother’s death.”

That seemed enough to silence him for a while. It was also enough to open all the wounds Lyanna left behind. Jon seemed to be swallowing his pain and converting it in angry words and acid remarks.

“How is your sister?” Arya asked in a softer tone and Jon softened a bit in answer.

“Healthy. Loud, adorable and frail like any baby, I suppose.” He said calmly. “My business here must be solved as fast as possible so I can go back to her.”

“I’ve never took you for a nurse.” Arya tried to ease his mood and it didn’t seem to work.

“Father not only named me Regent, but also Visenya’s tutor. I must rule the Kingdom in his name and also look after his daughter because he can’t bare living without my mother.” Jon lowered his head a bit. “He didn’t even name her. If I hadn’t picked the first name I could think about she would still be referred to as a thing, not even worthy of being mentioned in royal records.”

“I’m really sorry about your mother.” Arya confessed. “She was still young and so full of life. She should have been allowed to raise her daughter.”

“Life isn’t meant to be fair, I guess.” Jon answered in a broken tone. “Thank you for your letter. It meant a lot to me.”

“You were kind to us when Robb died and I really liked my aunt. It was the least I could do.” Arya said humbly. “I’ve never wished for you pain or unhappiness. I hope you know that.”

“It’s good to know you don’t wish me dead.” Jon said bitterly. “It makes me less worried about our wedding night.”

“How long until it happens?” Arya questioned with tension.

“Two weeks.” Jon said. “I would have had it celebrated today, if I didn’t need your father’s banners to be present. If I’m fast enough about my other business here, we may go back to King’s Landing once the ceremony is performed.” He was direct about his plans and by the sound of it Jon seemed to be running against time. “I’m just not sure if I’ll bed you here, or wait for the public wedding at the capitol. I have yet to make my mind, but looking at you makes my decision easier. You are even more beautiful than I remembered.” He smirked at her as if to reinforce his position.

“I don’t remember you being so bold about your speech. You still owe me respect, if nothing else.” Arya snapped back.

“Do you think we will live as siblings?” Jon asked with a hint of sarcasm as he walked toward her. “I wish I could be as cold and indifferent to you as you were to me, but I’m not. I’m no longer the boy who used to ask for your first dance either.” He held her face between his hands and looked at her with the eyes of a wounded animal, although his touch was still gentle and careful. “I’ll have much more form you than just your first dance.” His voice was suddenly soft, but she could feel the coldness in every one of them. “This is probably the only part of my duties here that will give me any pleasure.”

The Prince kissed her with longing, pain and anger. His usual propriety seemed to have been forgotten now that he was so confident about his rights. Although he still needed everything to be done according to protocol and tradition, Jon made it clear that he wouldn’t mind to cross a few lines in the process once he got her seating on her father’s table and slid his hand under her skirts.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting darker.  
> I hope you'll like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


	10. Chapter 10

Benjen had been sent to the capitol at the age of seven-and-ten and Jon was still a child when his uncle received his white cloak. It wasn’t exaggerated to say that Jon had been partially raised by him, along with Dayne and the Queen. He had always been proud of the boy and the king he hoped Jon to become.

Things had changed though. Since Lya’s death a part of Jon seemed to have died too; probably his most gentle and loving part, leaving behind only a lonely, angry and bitter young man with a kingdom to rule. Rhaegar had been terribly unfair sending a boy, one that just lost his mother at that, to do the job of a man.

It wasn’t for the lack of military ability or intelligence. Jon was more than able and competent in both fields, but he lacked the emotional balance to handle the matter at the moment. In two years or so, with a bit of seasoning, the Prince would have been the ideal man to the task, but the King chose to turn him into another potential threat.

Jon entered his room with evident anger. That was a frequent mood for the Prince those days. His bottom lip was bleeding and for a second Benjen thought he had seem a glimpse of Aerys in his nephew’s eyes.

“She bit me!” Jon growled in rage as he crossed the room. “As if it wasn’t enough she slapped my face as if I were a child!” Benjen took a deep breath and massaged his forehead. Things were getting pretty bad and they haven’t been in Winterfell for a day yet.

“May I ask Your Highness what happened for the lady to feel the need of...Attempting against your physical integrity?” Benjen asked with caution. The boy had a lot to learn about the North and its ladies.

“I kissed her!” Jon replied before spitting out the blood.

“Only a kiss?” He didn’t buy that. Benjen have seen Jon and his niece interacting briefly in King’s Landing after the tournament. They had been well behaved and there was this adoration in their eyes like only young lovers can display.

“I may have...Been too bold with my hands.” At Jon’s hesitation Benjen could see a bit of the boy he had helped to grow into a man. “She still hurt a Prince on her free will and I am to be her husband!” If Jon kept acting like that, Prince or not, Eddard would slap the Seven Hells out of him and Benjen couldn’t say his brother would be wrong to do so.

“Seat now.” Benjen said. “It seems that you need a bit of a lesson on what we consider to be an appropriate behavior in the North.” Jon looked at him with disdain and Benjen hoped that angry phase would pass soon. The Prince sit on his bed and looked at him. “As your guard I should be running after her to throw the girl in a dungeon, but since I’m also uncle to both of you I have to say that she was absolutely right to put you in your proper place. The fact that you are to be her husband soon doesn’t give you the right to disrespect your bride like this. If I were still your teacher, or even if Dayne was here, you would be punished for this.”

“If I can’t control my bride how am I supposed to control the country? Would you care to explain me, Uncle?” Jon asked angrily, but at least he was being more respectful.

“It wasn’t just Targaryen history what you’ve learned.” Benjen said sharply. “Think, boy! The North was never broken in battle by your ancestors and the Starks already ruled this land before Valirya forged its empire! Torrhen Stark only bent the knee when he realized that was the best decision for his people. He accepted Aegon, but has not been beaten by him to submission. We resisted the Andals, we negotiated with Dragons, but we have never been conquered by force. This should be enough for you to understand the this land won’t submit to a capricious prince no one knows. You are half northerner and that’s a good thing, but you’ll need to respect the North if you want to rule it. The same goes to your bride.”

“How am I to do it when I have no Dragons to force a negotiation or reason into my bride’s head? I’m a stranger to this land although I look like a northerner. How am I supposed to make them love me?” Jon asked bitterly.

“You start respecting our laws and traditions.” Benjen answered. “Go to the godswood often and show them you respect our gods. Mind your courtesies while conducting trials. Show generosity to them and prove to be fair in your judgment. If you ever condemn someone to death, don’t even think about using an executioner. If you are enough of a man to pass the sentence, you better be enough of a man to swing the sword. You look into the man’s eyes, you listen to his last words, and you do your duty. You will win the North by reason. They will look at you and see a ruler capable of listening to their needs.” He took a deep breath as his nephew seemed to chew every word carefully. “As for Arya...If you want for a woman to love you, forcing her to do so isn’t the best way. I thought Lya had hammered this enough into your head. A woman will respect you for your honor, loyalty, righteousness… She will love you for your kindness, your patience, and your capacity to respect her intelligence and opinion. It will be better for you to just listen to what she says. You got yourself in this mess for not asking her if the idea of marrying you was something she liked. You should have learned to listen to her by now.”

“Mother was the only one to talk to me about girls and I feel so stupid because of this...” The boy said shyly and it broke Benjen’s heart to hear that. “Father only kept saying that I was the Prince and that should be enough for a woman to want me. I don’t know what to do now.”

Benjen sat by his nephew’s side and place his hand on Jon’s shoulders.

“You are not the only one.” He said while fighting his own tears. “Brandon was too old to care about me, Ned was at the Vale most of the time...Lya was my only companion when I was a child. She was my sister, my mother and my best friend. She would twist your ear out for throwing yourself on a woman as if your were a savage or an animal. I don’t care if you are Prince Regent or a stable boy. To me you are your mother’s son and I owe her to look after you and make sure you’ll become the man she hoped you would be. Lyanna wanted you to be happy more than anything.”

“Thank you, Uncle.” Jon said with his usual shyness. He almost sounded like a child again. Benjen gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“You’ll learn your way around here in time.” Ben said. “About your bride...As far as I see, Lady Arya is loved by her people as your mother was. If you disrespect her; if you somehow humiliate her in public, or if they think that she is being forced into this...You’ll have a lot of trouble to keep the North on your side. This land raised its swords and spears to defend and rescue your mother once. Don’t think even for a second that they wouldn’t do it again for my brother’s daughter.”

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

He had taken his concerns to Benjen since his brother was close to the Prince in a way Ned could never hope to be.

Lord Stark’s major concern, aside from the stability inside his domains, was mainly about his children. He had been aware that Robb and Arya were sympathetic to the separatists, regardless to what Ned had to say about this folly.

One of the reasons why Ned accepted Lyanna’s invitation a year ago was to improve their relationships with the Targaryens, but mostly to allow his children to actually know Lyanna and her son so they could befriend them. Robb had been determinate to hate Jon, but once they got to know each other his son had changed his mind.

Robb had said he would never fight against a man who had offered him not only friendship, but also the means to make Alys happy. That had been a relief to Ned’s heart and...Even if he didn’t want his daughter to be of any interest to the Prince, Arya’s fondness for her cousin had shook her convictions, at least until their discussion.

Arya had accepted the match, not because she wanted to be married to her cousin or anyone else, but because she was aware of her vulnerable position. It didn’t mean his daughter would submit easily though. If he knew Arya at all, she would hold to the idea that she had been wronged and that would serve to justify her anger toward Jon, even if the Prince laid the moon and the stars at her feet.

Lyanna had been just the same and she learned in the hardest way how reckless actions could have disastrous consequences. Arya’s sympathy to the separatists was that. A reckless behavior that could cost dearly to all of them.

He found Ben in the godswood praying. Ned’s younger brother wanted to join the Night’s Watch when he was a boy, but Lyanna managed to convince him to join the King’s Guard instead. _I can’t leave Lya and the boy alone._ Those had been Ben’s words before he went to King’s Landing. After all those years, he had a reputation almost as formidable as Dayne’s and Selmi’s.

“It’s a blessing that you came along.” Ned said once Benjen’s was done with his prayers. His brother sat on a high root as he used to do as a child. “I have no idea of what to expect of this.”

“Jon is trying to prove himself, the King and the kingdom that he is ready to take Rhaegar’s place if needed.” Ben said sadly. “He is also devastated and lost now that Lya is gone. Rhaegar gave an impossible task to a boy who is taken by fear and anger.”

“I hope he is sane at least.” Ned added. “I’m worried.”

“You should be.” Ben agreed soberly. “Although I don’t approve of this folly, I have to agree with Rhaegar when he says you have been negligent with your duty. It’s very unlike you, even if I understand you have been suffering since Robb’s death. I don’t like to be suspicious of people I love, but I have to ask. What is really going on, Ned? Varys have his spies everywhere and so far your name hasn’t been mentioned, but I know when you are hiding something.”

“Whatever is said between us remains here.” Ned said in a cold and incisive tone. Ben nod in agreement. “I would have ended it already. The only thing holding me back is the fact that I don’t know exactly how far my children might have gone in their sympathy to this ridiculous cause.”

“What?” Ben was shocked and with good reason. “All of them?”

“No. Not all.” Ned said. “Sansa couldn’t care less about it and Rickon is too young to understand what it means. Bran is a reasonable lad and I believe him to be loyal to Jon’s friendship. They have been writing to each other since King’s Landing.” He took a deep breath. “Robb was favorable. Lord Karstark surely had a hand in this, although Alys had a distaste to the topic. He changed his heart once he got to know Jon. The real problem now is Arya.”

“Are you telling me that the Prince’s bride is a fucking separatist?! Ned...How come that you have been raising traitors in your own house?!” Benjen growled lowly at him. “Your daughter...Gods! Arya is to be married to the Prince!”

“I’m not sure how deeply involved she is, but Bran says it’s just her trying to convince him that it would be a good idea, but I don’t doubt she might have written a few letters. I haven’t mentioned anything of relevance near her since I learned what was happening, but I don’t know what she might have shared with them already.”

“This is a nightmare.” Ben covered his mouth with his gloved hand for a while. “If her name is brought up in this...The penalty is death, Ned. You know it! The boy would be forced to do it himself! What..?! How am I supposed to help you when you have allowed it to happen under your nose?!”

“Arya is well loved here.” Ned said. “This marriage would send a clear message to these lunatics. Without Arya in the North, they lose their access to my family and the hope that Bran might be persuaded. Once she has a child by Jon she won’t act against the child’s interests. Those who are displeased with Targaryens will have another northern Queen and future King. If Jon proves to be reasonable, they might even grow to like him.”

“If only the girl could pretend to be madly in love with Jon at this point...” Ben rolled his eyes. “If a northern princess can love the Targaryen heir, her people could love him too.”

“I’m just asking for it to remain a secret between us until the wedding is performed. After that Jon will be tied to her and I doubt he would sentence his own wife to death.”

“The boy might be going through a delicate moment, but he is not Maegor.” Ben agreed. “It might work, but I can’t promise you anything. I’ve never thought I would see you wishing for your daughter to marry a Targaryen prince, but the world is getting stranger by the hour. Where did the girl got this idea anyway?”

“A misguided notion that I was a rebel fighting for justice once and that Lyanna became some sort of hostage to keep my head down. My grudge over Rhaegar poisoned my judgment and my children were poisoned too. Even if I hate to admit it...Lyanna loved him once and her love set this country on fire. Rhaegar should have known better, but Lya was never blameless in this.”

“And you never bothered to correct this notion.” Ben sounded frustrated.

“I refused to believe it myself. I couldn’t accept that Father and Brandon...I couldn’t accept that Lya played a part in their deaths, not when I was fighting to bring her back. When the war was over and I came back home...I started to admit that I’ve fought for nothing. Father and Brandon died for nothing. Jaime Lannister died after saving this country from a mad man who killed his own grandchildren... Rhaegar was crowned and Lyanna married him and bore him a son. I kept saying to my family and myself that it was all Rhaegar’s fault, because it was too painful to say otherwise. Lyanna knew how I felt even if I’ve never said it to her. It took me eighteen years to forgive her and I only did it when... Her time was almost over.”

“Don’t you dare start crying over her death now.” Benjen commanded. “I’ve been trying to hold myself together for Jon’s sake. Someone must think straightly in this and if you start crying I...I’ll crumble too.”

“I’m afraid, Ben.” Ned confessed. “I’m afraid for Arya and all the stupid mistakes she might have made because of me. I don’t want my girl to be unhappy with this marriage nor the life that comes attached to it, but right now I...I’m ready to accept that if it means saving her from a traitor’s death. I can’t...I can’t lose another child.”

“She won’t die.” Benjen seemed sure of that. “Jon would never...He is all soft in the head because of her. If she is open to it, I’m sure they can be happy together.”

“Was Lya ever happy?” Ned questioned out of fear. Ben looked at him with pity.

“Some times, like most of us.” He said gently. “She was really happy since you came to King’s Landing. She was glowing when she reached the third month without loosing the child. I believe she even found it in her to fall in love with the King again. Rhaegar named Jon as Visenya’s tutor for a reason. He want her to be raised among Jon’s children. That means Arya will help to raise the girl like Lya helped to raise me. I’ll do everything in my power to protect what is left of my sister.”

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

In two days the Prince would start to listen to petitioners and slowly the castle and Wintertown got crowded. Arya kept herself busy and as far as possible from Jon’s insistent gaze since the incident at her father’s office. Under such circumstances, she could write no letters or do anything slightly suspicious. The only moments of solitude and peace she had was when she visited the godswood.

Every day something or someone would remember Arya that her time was running out. Legally speaking, they were married already and at that point the ceremony was just a formality meant to reinforce the legitimacy of it.

Arya picked a stick from the floor, pretending it was a sword, and hit a sentinel tree several times as if it was Jon standing in front of her. The memory of his mouth pressed against hers and his hands touching her legs without a shred of decency never failed to make her furious.

Jon had dared to cross her country and have an army of two hundred men at her door to prove to the North he would take whatever he wanted. Then he thought it would be just fine to throw himself upon her as if she were a common whore and that Arya would do nothing.

Arya nearly bitten his lip out and slap his face in a burning way. Obviously Jon was furious, but no less furious than she was for the indignity of his actions.

Once she had called him friend and even allowed herself to fantasize about kissing him, now Arya could barely stand looking at the Prince’s face.

“I hope you are not practicing to kill me.” That voice made her stop and her blood freeze. Arya didn’t bother to turn herself and look at him. “I want to talk to you.”

“The same way you wanted to talk to me in the office?” Arya snapped back angrily. “If you dare touching me again I swear I’ll slit your throat with your own dagger.”

“Do you really think I would do anything like this in a holly place?” Jon asked in a sober and indifferent tone. “I may be a ridiculous fool, but I know better than to disrespect the gods.”

“ What do you want?” Arya asked as she finally turned to face him.

Jon stood a few steps away from her, all dressed in black. The furs he wore made him look muscular, when his body was actually slender and elegant like Rhaegar’s. The chain around his neck indicated his Royal Authority and it probably meant he would soon hold court and listen to petitioners. He still haven’t shaved or cut his hair, making his face older, sober and northerner. Jon was clever; enough to realize he would have more chances of gaining sympathy in the land if he looked like one of them.

“For one; apologize to you about my poor behavior.” Jon answered with a frown. “I had no right to disrespect you in such a way and I have no excuses to offer but my lack of control over my feelings.”

“If you thought I would like yo u better if you acted like a simple minded brute, you better think again!” She roared at him furiously. “Do you think you can come here and do as you please? Take whatever you want or treat me like your property?! You are not in King’s Landing anymore! This is my home and my name isn’t something to be ignored or disrespected!”

For a while he didn’t say a thing. Jon simply looked at the heart tree for a moment in contemplative silence.

“Everything here is so different and alien to me.” He said absently. “Father always said my mother was unlike any woman he had ever known, but now that I see this land I understand that she couldn’t have been any different. The South never understood her as I never truly understood the North.”

“This is your way of telling me that you didn’t know how to behave; or you are trying to excuse your behavior because you thought we were barbarians?” Arya questioned in a sour tone.

“Neither.” Jon answered simply. “I’ve spent more than a month on horseback from King’s Landing to Winterfell and along the way, although I’m supposed to represent the King in State matters, I could only think about how terrified I was of seeing you again.”

“You didn’t seem afraid that night. There was nothing of fear in the way you touched me.” Arya snapped back.

“I was angry at you  for rejecting me the first time and than for ignoring my letters.” His voice was even, calm and sad in a way Arya have never seen. “I was afraid that you would do it again, or even humiliate me in front of the whole North and have your people laughing at me for being a stupid and presumptuous prince who knows nothing of this place.” He took a deep breath and closed his hands in fists. His eyes were red and his jaw tense. “I wanted to punish you for hurting me. I wanted to hurt you as if you were to blame for everything that happened. As if your rejection had been  somehow responsible for...For this.” He opened his arms a bit and looked at her.

A rya said nothing, but as Jon let the words get out of his mouth the stick she carried was lowing until it had escaped from her hand. She recognized the feelings he was describing.  Arya had felt the same when  she arrived home and realized that Robb wasn’t coming back. The same anger, the same fear  and the necessity of hurting other s as much as it hurt her.

“I have no idea of what I’m doing here, only that I have a number of duties to care while half of your countrymen probably wish me dead for being my Father’s son. In my dreams, you would always smile and look happy to see me when I arrived in the North to marry you. Things were already bad when you left a year ago, but I  was sure you would forgive me. Your silence only made me realize that my position was worst than I thought. You despised the idea of being my wife; I had just lost the only love I had for granted with my Mother’s death;  Father is more absent than never and I have to care for Visenya or no one else will .”

A  few tears escaped her eyes and Arya dried them angrily.

“What is it that you want with all this talking?” She asked. “You want to make me feel pity so I’ll accept what you did?”

“I know better than to expect you to accept anything you haven’t chose to accept.” He said. “I don’t expect you to love me as I though you did, but now we are both trapped in this. It can’t be unmade and I need you more than ever. I’m really sorry for what I did and I don’t want us to live in war against each other  so...What will take for you to become my ally instead of my enemy?”

“ You won’t touch me without my consent ever again.” Arya said immediately.

“Seems fair, although the production of heirs is not negotiable.” He said it as a matter of fact.

“I never thought it was. I know I’ll have my duties by you, just don’t...Don’t scare me again.” She said.

“I won’t.” Jon agreed soberly. “Would you like to keep separate chambers?”

“Maybe.” Arya said before looking at him. Regardless to her feelings, she still needed to be in his favor. If he started to hunt down separatists, it would be for the best to keep him happy. “ What about your terms?”

“I just want you to give us a chance. I really don’t want for us live like my parents lived.” Jon said sadly. “Could you do that?”

“I can try.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


	11. Chapter 11

After a week holding court and listening to the petitioners, one thing became quite clear. What the North feared the most was winter and the famine that followed it. From rich to poor, men and women lived their lives preparing for the long nights and frozen days, but it never seemed to be enough. Children and elders were the ones to suffer the most from both the cold and the lack of food.

The Starks had created storage houses and they collected supplies during the years of plenty. During winter those supplies were distributed especially among the small folk that flocked Wintertown to seek refuge. Those storage houses were few and, as far as the Prince could see, they should be distributed all over the territory.

At Winterfell Jon was presented to a very interest concept of production. The glasshouse, according to the maesters at his service, could be used to grow vegetables even during winter. Although the benefits of such a technique were evident, only a few lords had the means to buy the glass that came from Essos.

“I intend to improve the conditions of production and storage. Land disputes and minor quarrels have been dealt with care and efficiency, but in which concerns the preparations for winter there’s much that could be improved, Uncle.” The Prince said to Lord Stark during a private dinner.

“I agree with you in this, but to make the changes you speak of I would have to increase taxes and I don’t think the people would like me any better for doing so. Not when there’s animosity enough in the land.” Lord Stark answered carefully. “You are the first member of royalty since Jaehaerys that bothered to come here and ask about our needs, but without concrete actions I’m afraid it won’t make a difference.”

“What I have in mind couldn’t be done without help from the Iron Throne.” Jon said carefully as he checked the numbers that maester Luwin provided him. “Even for the crown to finance it would be difficult, but luckily on of my guests might offer us what it’s necessary.”

“And who is this?”

“I invited Lord Lannister for the wedding.” Jon answered bluntly and obviously that made Lord Stark even more shocked. “If I am to deal with it, I’ll need Lannister money and loyalty.”

“I doubt a Lannister will ever do anything for loyalty.” Ned rolled his eyes, making Jon laugh lightly.

“They won’t, but they might do if they feel they can profit from it.” Jon clarified. “Tyrion Lannister is said to be a reasonable man with a mind as sharp as his late father’s was. It’s also said that what he lacks in stature, he has in ambition. That’s why I’ll name him Hand. At least his vanity will be pleased with it.”

“What of Jon Arryn? He has been faithful and efficient since Rhaegar pardoned him.” Ned questioned and there was no surprise in it. Jon Arryn was as good as a father to Lord Stark.

“We have no complains about his services, but Lord Arryn’s age and health are making it difficult for him to carry his duties with the same efficiency. It’s not even fair to keep the man working when he should be home, with his family, enjoying the years he still have left.” Jon said calmly. “Arryn approves of my choice in this and he seemed happy to pass the chain to a younger man.”

“What exactly do you have in mind that would need a man like Lannister?” Ned seemed satisfied with his reasons to dismiss Arryn, but was still unsure about Lannister.

“Large glass houses, spread over the land to reinforce the supplies during winter. You’ll chose who will administrate them and all the production is to be distributed to those in need during winter. In times of plenty, I’ll have the forth part of the production sent to the crown, in gold or goods, as tribute that will be used to pay the loan and the rest you can trade or feed the poor, it will be up to you to decide according to the needs of your people. I’ll also have more storage houses built and distributed in a way that would attend a larger number of people without them having to flock Wintertown to survive.” Jon explained to Lord Stark what he had already discussed with maesters. “Does it sounds reasonable?”

“It does. Have the maesters been consulted?” Ned asked curiously.

“They have. I’m sure my maesters and maester Luwin are checking your records and figuring how much it would cost, how long until it can be payed, how to find people willing to work when it’s not winter and even if it’s viable to implement it.” Jon said proudly. “I’ll also allow the hunt of a number of male stags during winter. That’s the plan. Your separatists talk of war that will cost dearly to the common folk. I’m more interested in feeding the common folk.”

“And the common folk will love you for this.” Ned concluded soberly. “What about the Lord Commander’s request?”

“Lord Mormont...I’ve thought about it.” Jon said calmly before taking a sip of his wine. “I’m sure I can send a number of prisoners to the Wall, if he thinks he can manage them and make them into sworn brothers. As for the castles...I’ll send the money once I’ve reached King’s Landing.”

“Where this money will come from?” Ned seemed determinate to find a reason to call him stupid or to prove him to be inadequate to the task.

“I’ll pay it from my own fortune. I have Dragonstone’s income and my mother’s inheritance. I can’t build new castles, but I will at least be able to pay for some repairs and provide workers. It’s not much, but this is what I can offer without raising taxes or negotiating with lords and the Small Council.” Jon added. “I would also like to look closely into your suggestion about a second defensive line south of the Wall. The land is yours to give, but we can’t pay for new fortifications. If you are really interested, maybe giving portions to second sons from your richest lords could solve the problem. They might be able to afford at least a minor fortification. With time it can be improved.” That seemed to touch Lord Stark’s heart somehow. His uncle smiled at him.

“When you arrived with your army, I thought you were about to start a bloodshed.” Ned said. “Now I see that you prefer to deal with it in a different way.”

“It’s more reasonable to have taxes used to the benefit of the land than in a pointless war that will only buy me more enemies.” Jon said. “I prefer to think of it as a long term investment. The North is too big and it also suffers the most with harsh winters. What I’m suggesting should have been done already, but this country has known plenty of war and rebellions to allow us to think of more practical matters. As for the separatists...I’ll have to make an example of a few of them because treason can’t be rewarded, but mercy must also be displayed.”

“Do you have any names already?” Lord Stark questioned carefully after drying his cup.

“Indeed I have, but I’ll only handle them after the wedding.” Jon smiled at his uncle but, even if he trusted Lord Stark, he wouldn’t share those names yet. “Such a happy occasion shouldn’t be ruined by the violent nature of power. I doubt it would make Arya like me any better.”

“You are wiser than I thought.” Ned confessed eventually and that made Jon feel at ease for a second. “I’m sure Lya would be very proud of you.”

“Uncle Benjen reminded me that this land has never been conquered by force, but convinced by reason.” Jon said before raising from his seat. “This separatist talking is folly and wouldn’t stand a year against the Iron Throne, but when the people is wronged and nothing is done about it, the talking of rebellion starts, no matter how delusional. I could march over the land and have it devastated, but it would only make the people angrier and make the separatist notion stronger. Dayne once said that the best way of catching a band of outlaws is by getting the people on your side. I’ll feed the North and the wolves will never think of biting me again.”

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

Servants invaded her room to have Arya trying her wedding dress for one last time before the wedding. She touched the fabric of the skirt and collar feeling its quality and the feeling of it against her skin.

Sansa had been married to one of the richest men in Westeros and not even her dress had been that fine. The gown was heavy, made of the thickest velvet and samite in creamy and golden colors, with an impossibly tight bodice decorated with baby pearls and intricate embroidery in golden and silver threads, and he bell sleeves nearly reached the floor. Her family cloak adorned with white bear fur.

Jon gave her a set of jewelries to wear. They had all been worn by Lyanna on her first public appearance as Queen, made of gold, pearls and rubies.

“You look beautiful.” It was probably the first time Arya heard her mother saying that and for a second she wanted to cry. “A true princess.” Her mother kissed her hand fondly.

Arya knew better than to believe that such a magnificent gown had any other purpose other than make her look like a ceremonial sacrifice. She would be a symbol of the Targaryen control over the North.

“I can barely breathe inside this gown.” Arya said with annoyance. “I doubt I’ll be able to move with it.”

“Don’t be dramatic.” Her mother replied. “It’s just a gown and you’ll move just fine, unless you are planning to runaway.”

“It wouldn’t be a bad idea.” She said miserably.

At that Lady Catelyn waved her hands and commanded the servants to leave them alone. Once it was just the two of them in the room, her mother looked at her with sharp eyes.

“Mind your words. You are not free to say whatever comes to your mind anymore.” Her mother said. “We would have picked a different man for you. One that would allow you a less restricted life, but you deliberately made the Prince look your way. Be grateful that he is young and don’t seem to bare a trace of Targaryen madness. The gods know I can only pray that the love he claims to feel will last forever and you’ll never be put aside in favor of a mistress. I thought you liked him.”

“I do like him in my own way. I’m not sure it’s enough to make me wish for a marriage.” Arya said sadly.

“It’s still better than most marriages I’ve seen.” Her mother said and this time she at least sounded sympathetic. “If you are open to it, you’ll learn to love him in time.”

“How was it?” Arya looked down for a second. She knew the story, but the idea that one day her parents haven’t been in love with each other was a hard one to accept. “How was it when you married father?”

Lady Catelyn seemed to consider that question for a moment. For a moment Arya wondered how scared her mother might have felt. Probably more than her.

“When my father told me I was to marry Brandon and I first saw my betrothed...Gods, I was thrilled.” Her mother said with a faint smile. “Your uncle was very handsome, strong, charming and bold. I thought I was the luckiest woman in the world for being promised to him. Of course we barely knew each other and I though a handsome face was enough reason to love someone. It was my duty to love him anyway.” Her mother made a pause. “It was completely different with your father. The war had started, Brandon had been killed and I was afraid. When my father said I was to marry his brother, a man I hadn’t seen until our wedding day...I was terrified and I remained so until Robb was born. When your father came back home I had to get used to the idea that I would spend the rest of my life with that stranger.”

“I wish I had half of your strength and determination.” Arya said bitterly. “How did you know you loved him?”

“I don’t know for sure.” Her mother said while holding her hand. “One day he may have kissed me differently, or maybe it was when I first saw him smiling, but by the time you were born...The way he held you and smiled...The way he looked at me...That day I realized I loved him fiercely and I couldn’t imagine being anyone else wife. Ned did everything to please me. He built me a sept; he respected me; he was gentle, honorable and carrying; and he gave me five beautiful children. There was nothing for me to hate in him and there was plenty to love. Even his sour face.”

Arya closed her eyes. The lack of control over her life felt terrifying and Jon...He was a familiar stranger with a handsome face; gentle and kind most of the time, but with a dark side she got a glimpse of. Besides, she was still afraid of what he might do to her countrymen and his lack of action felt like the quietness before a storm.

“It is normal to be afraid and there’s no shame in it.” Her mother said before caressing her face. “When I married Ned I had no mother to sooth my worries and it felt so scary to face it on my own, without anyone to tell me what to expect.”

Arya feared for her people and for her future, but her mother thought her distress to be related with the wedding night. Whatever happened between her and Jon in the bedchamber, Arya doubted that could be as terrible as thinking of a traitor’s death to men and women she had listened to and shared the dream of a different land. A land of plenty and justice.

“What should I expect?” She asked shyly so her mother wouldn’t look inside her eyes and read her treacherous thoughts.

Arya still remembered Sansa’s face on the eve of her wedding to Willas. Her sister pretended to be carefree and in absolute control of her feelings until she went to bed, dragging Arya through the corridor to sleep with her one last time before she was a married woman. She had cried and spent hours babbling nonstop about her fears and insecurities; wondering if Willas would find her pretty enough. Arya thought it to be hilarious for a while, but in the morning after her sister’s wedding Sansa seemed to be a completely different person.

Sansa could barely look up to face Arya and she seemed eager to lock herself inside her room and talk to no one for a while. When Arya went to her and asked if she was feeling ill, the only thing she said was that she felt uncomfortable and sore between her legs. More than that she felt tricked into the idea that love would always be sweet and delightful, when she had felt nothing but pain and the feeling of being invaded without much care. She couldn’t say if things had changed for her, but Sansa seemed happier the last time she had seen her at King’s Landing.

With Alys things seemed to be different. Robb had been head over hills with her and it was a mutual thing. Arya had seen them kissing, laughing and whispering silly things to each other several times. A day after their wedding, Robb looked at his wife with a suggestive smile on his face and Alys giggled. Whenever Alys said she was going to bed, Robb would soon find an excuse to check on her.

If Arya could chose, she would chose a marriage like Robb’s; but a Queen’s marriage seemed to be more like Sansa’s.

“There will be pain.” Her mother said as she fondled Arya’s hair. “It’s not something unbearable, but you’ll probably want it to stop as soon as possible. If you don’t know what to do, just stay still and let him finish. Try not to cry or complain even if he is careless about it.”

“Was that supposed to help?” Arya questioned with shock. Her mother muffled a laugh.

“I don’t think so.” Cat agreed apologetically. “It can be good, you know? Very good. I guess the best advise I can give you is to kiss your husband as much as you can and try take the time to just enjoy the touches, the kisses, the tickles...The more relaxed you feel the better. With time you’ll find your own way of doing it, of molding him to your preference.”

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

After hours spent with petitioners and maesters, Jon felt pretty much drained of energy. At home he had his own chambers and it was simple enough to get a bit of quietness there. At Winterfell there was no such a thing, not when he had to please everyone around him.

He hadn’t been able to talk much to Arya since they tried to reach an agreement in the godswood. Jon actually didn’t know what to say or do to a woman who had to be reasoned with so she would at least look at him life a tolerable deal. His whole life felt a bit like a lie. Every time a woman looked at him with interest, every time they flirted with him and tried to have him bedding them...Nothing of that had been true. It wasn’t Jon what they wanted. It was the title, the jewelries, the money and all the things a Prince could provide them with.

With Arya he felt constantly frustrated. He had been willing to offer everything that he was and everything that he had at her feet and it still wasn’t enough. The idea of their wedding night sounded like a nightmare in potential and at that point Jon wasn’t even sure if he would be able to consummate the damn thing.

Jon had two days to make up his mind and decide if he wanted the North to be sure that Arya was unquestionably his lawful wife, or if he would hold to the idea that the ceremony would be enough to reinforce his hold over the North.

He needed a generous horn of strong ale and a bit of quietness for a change. At leas Lord Stark’s servants were solicit enough to offer him refreshment once he reached the Great Hall.

The taste of the ale was something familiar and the Prince allowed himself to relax a bit and think of his home. Inevitably his thoughts went to his sister and how much she would have grown once he saw her again. He wondered if Visenya felt as lonely as he had felt his whole life and if their father was honoring his word and taking good care of the child. Jon needed to go back home, but it would only be possible if two missions.

“Whatever the question you are dealing with, I doubt the answer is at the bottom of this cup.” The feminine voice said in a witty and acid tone.

“It won’t give me the answers I need, but it will make me forget the question for a while.” He replied before taking another sip of it. “Lord Stark brews a fine ale here. Would like to join me, my dear?”

“If the point is to forget the questions...Why not?” She replied before sitting by his side.

She waved at a servant and asked for a jar of ale. The way she moved showed a woman capable of commanding armies and bring empires down. Perhaps Arya had been the reason why Jon named his sister Visenya. His betrothed reminded him of the warrior queen and the Prince realized that he admired that kind of spirit in a woman.

Arya drunk from her cup as she looked at some random point of the wall. She seemed distracted with her own thoughts to even notice him. Jon looked at her for a while, admiring the softness of her expression. _A winter rose. Beautiful, delicate, seemly harmless, but with thorns hid_ _d_ _en under her leafs._

“You have another brother, don’t you?” Jon asked eventually and that seemed to bring her back to reality.

“Yes.” Arya answered briefly. “His name is Rickon.”

“How old is he?” He tried to sound friendly.

“Ten. He is Uncle Edmure’s squire at Riverrun.” Arya said with an absent smile.

“Was he excited about becoming a squire?” It was with a bit of shock that he realized how little he knew her and yet he felt connected to her like a shadow.

“He wouldn’t speak of anything else for months, but he was crying when he left.” Arya said and there was longing in her voice. “I guess we are always afraid of facing what we do not know. The idea of the South sounded scary to me and I doubt Rickon felt any differently. I miss the little devil.”

“I guess we have this in common now.” The Prince helped himself of another portion of ale. “I miss that little screaming thing. I hate myself for not being with her right now.”

“I don’t think she will remember that you were ever gone when she is older. I don’t think Rickon misses me at all even if he used to follow me around a few years ago. He was closer to Bran, but he would come to me whenever he got himself in trouble. I would kiss his scratches and tell him everything would be fine. Now he doesn’t need me to do it anymore.”

“At times I forget that you do have a softness in you; hidden under all the rage and defiant nature.” Jon smiled bitterly. “You have a loving heart and you love fiercely, don’t you?”

“I either love with all my heart or hate with all of my strength.” Arya agreed. “When you said you felt angry and hurt all the time...I wanted to hurt others so they would understand what I was feeling. I wanted to blame someone or something for what happened to my brother.” She took a deep breath. “It seems that we are not so different as I thought.”

“You were very close to Robb, wasn’t you?” Jon asked and this time he wanted to embrace Arya and offer her a bit of comfort.

“Very much. He was my big brother. I thought him to be so brave, tall and strong when I was a child. He would tease me all day, but also helped me in the most stupid things, like snowballs ambushes to Sansa.” Arya laughed, but he noticed that she whipped a stubborn tear. “I liked Alys too. She was like an older sister to me; one that really liked me instead of naming me a failure. I prayed for them to have a bunch of babies so I would have plenty of nephews and nieces to spoil and turn them into little savages.”

“Have you never thought about having a bunch of babies yourself?” Jon asked curiously.

“I used to think about it when I was a child, but time made me wiser.” She said. “My brother’s children I would be able to spoil. To teach them and grow them into decent people would be Alys’ responsibility. I would get only the funny part of it. Besides, I’ve never thought I would find someone stupid enough to have me.”

“You think very low of yourself, don’t you?” Jon pointed. “A wildling that would never reach the same status of your sister; a failure who never thought it possible to find a man stupid enough to love you...That’s how you’ve referred to yourself since we met. You just haven’t noticed that you already proved these ideas to be wrong.”

“You would feel the same if you had grown near a sibling that have always been adored while you were simply tolerated. I wanted to have what she had. The praises, the attention, my parents’ pride directed to me instead of their shame whenever I spoke out of turn. It always felt like Sansa had been born with everything and when I was born there was nothing left for me.” Arya said bitterly. “Since I couldn’t have what she had, I grew as free and wild as possible. I became my own person.”

“You must be blind to think yourself to be merely tolerated.” Jon rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen and listened to your people. They love you and call you lady-wolf. The elders would tell me with concerned voices to take good care of you, as if you were their granddaughter. Knights and soldiers called you ‘Ned’s valiant little girl’. I thought your father would have me killed if he could so I would never get anywhere near his dearest girl; and I...I’ve been trying to impress you since I saw you for the first time in the Throne Room.” Jon finished his ale to wash the bitter taste out of his mouth. “It seems that you found a man stupid enough to have you and still count himself lucky.”

“I’m still waiting for you to change your mind. One day you’ll look at me and either be displeased or indifferent. I’m waiting for the day you’ll hate me and you’ll want to hurt me again.” Arya rose from her seat and straightened her skirt. “In fact I thing you’ll hurt me anyway.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


	12. Chapter 12

It had snowed the whole night before the wedding. The the castle woke up that morning the floor was covered in white. He had never seen something like that in King’s Landing. It was a white day and it was beautiful.

A bath had been prepared for him and the hot water was a true blessing. It helped him to relax and the delicate fragrances in the water made him smell less like a common soldier and more like a man on his wedding day.

Black was his color of choice. Even if it was a festive occasion, the Prince was still mourning his lady mother. The only colorful detail was the cloak with the Targaryen Dragon and the golden chain with rubies over his shoulders.

Jon broke his fast with a light and quick meal. He was expected to leave the castle before his bride so he wouldn’t see her until the ceremony. It was granted to Benjen the honor of escorting him to the godswood. Once they met at the Great Hall, Ben smiled with pride.

“Now you almost look like a prince again.” Ben said in a jest. “You smell better too.”

“Thanks. It can’t make a miracle and change my face, but at least my bride won’t complain of my smell.” Jon replied shyly. “Take me to godswood and let’s be done with it before Arya manages to run away.”

Lords and Ladies crowded the holly place to witness the ceremony. Lord Tyrion had arrived late in the previous night, making it impossible for them to speak properly, but Jon would deal with him in a more convenient time. Bran and Benjen stood by Jon’s side in a place of honor.

The Prince had only attended weddings performed in the Light of The Seven and all the rituals seemed a bit odd to him. There was no music, no incense and no septan. He only had to say his vows to the bride in front of witnesses and have their hands fastened. It was a promise made in front of the old gods and their ways were primal, but Jon doubted anything could be more powerful than a promise made to the holiness of nature.

Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn appeared by the sentinel trees, both of them escorting the bride.

Arya was dresses in ivory embroidered in gold, silver and pearls. Her dark hair half loose, with braids entwined with lace to make her face more visible. She was wearing his mother’s jewels and Jon could almost feel Lyanna’s presence by his side.

They walked the distance in silence. Arya kept her head down, probably worried about tumbling on a root, or maybe given to a sudden fit of shyness. Anyway she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen and to think that he would claim her as his for life was both wonderful and terrifying. A magnificent, breathtaking feeling.

When Eddard officially presented Arya to be given in marriage to him, Jon realized he had been holding his breath. He took both her hands and kissed them with reverence and gratitude, certainly something unusual for a prince or a northerner to do. Arya was the North made flesh. Fearsome and mesmerizing in her beauty, wild and untouched, never tamed or submitted, loyal only to those who respected her and Jon was marrying both the woman and the land.

There were no words between them. Their voices seemed to be frozen inside their throats, but when her eyes reached his Jon saw in them no love and no tenderness; he saw only the conflict, the doubt and the fear.

Vows were exchanged and Jon couldn’t remember a single word they had said. He only remember of removing her heavy cloak with the gray wolf in a white field and replacing it by the black cloak with the Targaryen Dragon, before their hands were fastened together. _It’s done. I have Arya and I have the North._

Jon kissed her under the heart tree, touching her face gently and feeling like Aegon The Conquerer after accepting Torrhen Stark’s loyalty.

The feast that followed was a lavish affair that went on for hours. There was music, laughs, plenty of food, wine and ale to keep the guests entertained. Arya sat by his side and, as tradition dictated, they shared the same cup and the same plate. She barely touched the food though. The portions of venison he served to her remained untouched, although she drank plenty of wine.

Jon placed his hand above hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. He lowered his body so he could speak to her closely.

“You should at least have a bite. You barely touched the food and this will be a long day.” He said with kindness and concern.

“My stomach is a mess. I’m not sure I’ll manage to eat anything.” She replied absently. “Besides, I can barely breathe inside this gown.”

“We are both nervous, Arya.” He tried to ease her worries without much success. “Everything is new and foreign now, but I don’t want you to feel ill or weak. This is just a feast like any other.”

“Except it isn’t.” She replied. “I can barely wait for it to be over. I would like to take off this gown and have a bit of silence.”

“Well...I can help you with that later. No one will actually question us if she decide to leave now.” He suggested and tried to not laugh when her face got bright red with embarrassment. “Do you want me to call it a day so we can get out of here?”

Arya considered for a while the offer, but I guess her discomfort with the whole event was bigger than her fears of what might happen to her once they were alone in their chambers.

“Yes, please. I’m tired of this noise already.” She said.

Jon finished his wine and rose from his seat before offering Arya his hand to help her. That made all the eyes in the Great Hall to look at them. Some lords hammered the tables, making roaring sounds and others raised their cups and shouted.

“We haven’t called for the bedding, Your Highness!” One of them shouted. “If you are so desperate we can help your bride with her dress!”

“Thank you for your concern, my lord.” Jon said in a joyous tone. “I would rather do the job myself and I don’t want to scare the ladies in the room. Leave it to us. I’m sure we can handle the task just fine and I don’t like the idea of others touching my beloved.”

The message was clear enough and no one dared to say another word as Jon conducted Arya through the hall. Benjen followed them silently all the way to their chambers, all dressed in his armor and white cloak to let it clear that he was first and foremost a member of the King’s Guard.

The room prepared for them was the largest in the castle, second only to the Lord’s Chambers. The fireplace kept it warm and cozy, there were several pieces of fur and flowers everywhere filling the room with a sweet smell.

Arya remained silent and tried to avoid his eyes at all cost. As it seemed, he wouldn’t have her that night. She was acting like a cowed animal and he had made a promise to her after all. He wouldn’t scare her or touch her without consent. There was plenty of time for them to enjoy each other’s company in the future.

“Should I call for someone to help you with the dress?” He asked before removing his heavy tunic and placing it over a chair. At the question, Arya finally turned to look at him.

“I thought you would prefer to deal with it yourself.” She said with a hint of curiosity and confusion.

“I said that so they wouldn’t go on with the bedding thing. I wanted to spare us the embarrassment.” Jon said calmly. “I’ll sleep in another room and you can rest peacefully as much as you want.”

“If you do this, you’ll be a laughing stock in the morning and I’ll be humiliated for not being able to keep you even for a night.” She replied with indignation. “You won’t be doing a favor to anyone.”

“So I’ll sleep here, if you don’t mind.” Jon said in a reasonable tone. “I won’t disturb you. I promise.”

“Is this your idea of revenge against me?” Arya seemed to be even more designate at the suggestion. “You felt rejected by me when you said I was to be your wife and now you reject me on our wedding night?”

“No. This is my idea of respecting our agreement. I said I wouldn’t touch you without your consent nor scare you like I did that day in the office.” Jon explained. “Since you seemed distressed and uncomfortable in my presence, I thought you were distressed by the idea of having me in your bed today and that my presence wasn’t entirely welcome.”

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

Even in a maddening day, that moment seemed to be the most unbelievable experience she have had. Arya looked at him in disbelief and slight anger.

She had spent the whole day trying to simply survive and preparing her spirit to do whatever was necessary to ensure that he would be pleased with her. Arya knew what she had done and what she could lose if he discovered her sympathy to the separatists. Her only shield would be the status of a royal princess and Jon wouldn’t be able to dissolve the marriage without risking his ambitions in the North. She also knew that without being in Jon’s favor she wouldn’t be able to interfere with the investigations if needed.

As it seemed, Jon wasn’t so in love with her since he didn’t even seem interested with the perspective of sharing her bed. In the next morning the whole country would know her as the woman whose husband refused to touch. If Jon were any other man, that wouldn’t be so scandalous. He was the Prince though and that would be remained for years.

“Is this your idea of revenge against me?” Arya was designate at the suggestion. “You felt rejected by me when you said I was to be your wife and now you reject me on our wedding night?”

“No. This is my idea of respecting our agreement. I said I wouldn’t touch you without your consent nor scare you like I did that day in the office.” Jon explained. “Since you seemed distressed and uncomfortable in my presence, I thought you were distressed by the idea of having me in your bed today and that my presence wasn’t entirely welcome.”

Arya took a deep breath and tried to calm down. She needed to make him feel welcome and desired by her. She needed to convince him with sweet words and kisses.

“I’m just...” She considered her words for a second. Jon wanted to please her, didn’t he? How many times he said he would do anything for her? “I was anxious because...I don’t really know what to do.” That was humiliating to say, but it seemed to work. Jon’s expression softened and once more he was the young prince she had befriended a long time ago.

“You don’t have objections then?” He need to be sure. Arya nod negatively.

“I want you to stay.” She summoned all of her conviction and courage to cross the room and stand in front of him. She thought of Queen Visenya, the Temptress; and Queen Nymeria of the Roinars. She need to be brave. She would be as brave as those woman who fought battles and had carved their names in history.

Arya placed both her hands on his chest, covered by a lose shirt. She could feel his heart beating against her palm and his heavy breath. Jon was as anxious as she was. That was a good thing. They stood in common ground and they knew how delicate that game was.

Jon didn’t say a thing. He simply removed the pins in her hair and undid her braids. His fingers ran through it as his eyes seemed to be dazzled by Arya’s face. He didn’t seem to know what to do first, so it was up to her to make the first move so there would be no doubts about her wishes. Arya unlaced his shirt and removed it, leaving Jon bare to he touch.

“Turn yourself.” He said. His voice was low and imperative. Arya obeyed without knowing what he would do.

Arya heard the sound of a blade being pulled out from its scabbard and suddenly she felt her gown lose. The dress fell to her feet and in sequence Jon cut the strings of her corset. Arya could finally breathe freely, but the idea of being half naked in front of him made it impossible.

Jon moved away from her and sat on their bed as she stood in the middle of the room wearing nothing but her undergarments and chemise. Jon removed his boots and unlaced his trousers, before focusing his attentions on her once more. His eyes were dark and hungry.

“Feeling comfortable now?” He asked her with a hint of sarcasm.

“Indeed I am.” She replied in the same tone, making him laugh lightly.

“Good.” He smirked at her. “Now...I want you to take off all the rest. I want to look at you.”

Arya thought that to be an absurd request meant to embarrass her and prove her to be vulnerable, but she removed her chemise and undergarments anyway. She had never been shy, not truly, but at that moment she couldn’t even look at him and his hungry eyes.

“I don’t want you to get tired.” He said. “Seat on the chair.”

Although his commands sounded absurd and silly at times, Arya was thankful for that one. Her knees were no longer trustworthy. She obeyed and tried to keep at least a bit of her modesty by covering her breasts.

Jon rose from bad and removed this trousers. For the first time he stood in front of her completely naked. Arya avoided looking at him as he crossed the room to stand in front of her. To her surprise, the prince parted her legs and knelled between them. His hands running up and down her tights while he looked up to her face.

“Not even in my wildest dreams I’ve seen such beauty.” Jon’s voice was soft and low. “I want you to kiss me, wife.”

Her mother’s advice came to her mind instantly before she lowered her head to kiss his lips with passion. His nails scratched her tights. Jon pulled her hips to the edge of the seat and broke the kiss with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

“Just relax, my dear.” He whispered to her before kissing her belly.

Arya thought it to be weird, but what did she know of those things? No one ever bothered to give her details of the act and all the testimonies she have heard from Sansa and Alys had been vague. It was either bearable or delightful.

Jon place her legs above his shoulders while placing his face in front of her intimate parts. From that moment on, Arya had no idea of what to expect and for a second she feared he would hurt her. What came next was an utter surprise.

First a lick and then a hard suck. Arya threw her head back immediately, resting it against the chair as she held to the arms of the chair tightly. There wasn’t enough air in the world for her to breathe.

“Gods!” She said half startled, half numbed.

That seemed to please him and his devious kiss became more intense. Arya’s mouth fell open and she shut her eyes to simply experience all those foreign and powerful feelings. It felt good, so good that it was almost maddening. She couldn’t even put it into words. The only thing she knew was that she didn’t want it to stop.

Jon seemed to find the perfect spot with his tongue and in an impulse Arya’s hand reached for his head, keeping him exactly where he was. It worked and Jon gave that spot all the attention that Arya demanded from him. He found his rhythm, the right pattern and Arya felt an explosion within herself. A certain wildness breaking lose and taking over her body in the form of spasms. Her legs started to close around Jon’s head, but he kept them wide open.

Arya suddenly felt and intrusion. Something inserted inside cunt, moving like a sinuous snake. She wondered briefly if that was what Sansa had described. If so, it didn’t hurt or feel bad at all. It only added to those delightful feelings. The spasms came several times in waves, soothing to the point of almost extinguish and them coming back viciously; as high strangled sounds came out of her mind.

When Jon finally stopped and came back to his feet, Arya felt completely numbed and relaxed. Jon picked her up with his arms and carried to bed. Arya threw her arms around his neck for support and kissed him with hunger.

He laid her on their bed and looked at her face with satisfaction.

“This is it?” She asked curiously. “Is it over?”

“We barely started.” Jon grinned at her as he climbed on top of her body and they stood eye to eye in bed. “Liked that, did you?” He asked before kissing her neck and taking her earlobe into his mouth.

“Uhun…” She said with her eyes closed. “Very...Very much.”

“Good...” He whispered. “Things can be that good between us. Can be even better.” His voice was hot, dangerous and seductive like sin. Jon kissed her mouth with lust and passion as he tried to accommodate his body between her legs.

Arya felt something being rubbed against her cunt as if trying to find the entrance. She felt tense almost immediately. She opened her eyes and looked at him with a bit of apprehension.

“Relax.” He whispered. “Stay very still and relax.”

Her eyes were suddenly wide open as she felt it again. His cock pressed against the entrance and forcing its way into her cunt. What Sansa said finally made some sense as she was stretched to accommodate him. All the sweet sensations she had experienced previously seemed to vanish as Jon tried to put together pieces that were not meant to fit.

With one sudden thrust the pain came and Arya had to bit her bottom lip to not make any sound. Her whole body was tense and she didn’t want Jon to move at all.

Jon kissed her mouth tenderly before making any move. Arya tried to breathe and relax as he had said, but then he started to move slowly.

The pain she felt initially faded a bit, but not completely. At every thrust she felt a discomfort. Nothing unbearable, but not pleasant either. Jon kissed her mouth a few times, as if trying to sooth her pain somehow. She didn’t know exactly when it happened, but at some point there was no more pain.

It seemed that her body found a way to receive his in a way that could be comfortable to both. At times his movements were abrupt and made her protest, but once he found the ideal pace it started to feel good again.

The explosion started to build in inside of her once more. Slowly the waves came back and the spasms took over her only less intense than the first time. She still felt the discomfort and the ghost of the pain, but those sweet sensations made it irrelevant. Her whole body tightened, as if trying to hold Jon inside her and inside her he remained.

Jon closed his eyes as a growl escaped his mouth. Arya felt something warm filling her as Jon softened.

He rested his head against her chest for a while as he tried to recover his breath. Once he seemed somewhat conscientious again, Jon rolled to his side of the bed. He pulled her body and pressed it close to his, as if they were two spoons put together.

His nose traced the line of her neck tenderly. There he was. He gentle and kind prince. That young man who asked for her first dance and not the Prince Regent, who came to the North with his army and a thirst for blood.

“I’ve wondered for a year how it would feel.” He said in a soft and loving voice. “How this day would be like.” He took a deep breath as if considering his words. “I know it will take a while but...I think we can make it work.”

“So many big questions...Let us think about the answers tomorrow.” Arya said lazily. “I’m too tired to think right now.”

Arya heard him laughing behind her. Their bodies still tightly pressed together. His right hand fondled her tights. Jon slid his hand between her legs. He bit her shoulder and Arya felt his fingers inside her again.

“I said we barely started, love.” His voice was humorous, but also seductive as his fingers kept moving in and out, making her moan. “We still have the whole night.”

“Gods!” She said breathlessly. Her ass rubbing against his half hard cock.

He took her earlobe into his mouth, biting it lightly and licking. It was said that he lacked the King’s talent for music, but that was utterly wrong. His fingers knew how to play her like a harp.

Arya was half way to pleasure already, when his cock entered her swiftly once more, making her gasp and cry out his name in frenzy and pain.

“You make the most obscene noises, madam.” He growled against her ear. “I have yet to listen to all of them.”

“You’ll have...To take them...”She said with difficulty.

“Oh I will.” His voice was feral.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's me, or the weather is suddenly hot?  
> I hope you like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


	13. Chapter 13

When Benjen entered the King’s Guard he had dreamed of honor and glory. He wanted to be a hero; a knight as great as Arthur Dayne and Baristan Selmy. He certainly never signed up for the task of guarding the Prince’s door during his wedding night.

At least Lyanna had spared him the suffering. He never had to keep vigil whenever Rhaegar summoned her to his chambers, but Jon, the nephew he helped to raise into a man, had wished for him to be his guard. That was the most embarrassing experience he had ever lived, not only because the boy was like a son to him, but also because he was bedding Ben’s niece, Ned’s precious little daughter.

He wasn’t drunk to handle that and he certainly wasn’t payed enough for that. Benjen tried to comfort himself with the idea that once Jon was done and the wedding was absolutely legal and valid, they would simply sleep like normal people and Ben would have a bit of his peace of mind restored. It must be said that he was wrong. Very wrong.

They not only did it all night, but also made sure of not being quiet all. It was so bad that at some point Benjen started to envy their energy.

Jon got out of the room dressed only in his trousers and shirt. His hair a total mess while his face bared the most cocky smile Benjen had ever seen. If he wasn’t the Prince, Benjen would have loved to punch that smile out of his face.

In a way Benjen had to admit the girl to be quite smart about her actions. Jon had been decided to not consummate the wedding while they remained in Winterfell, but Arya was aware of how frail her position was. She had made sure the boy would be pleased. In fact, she seemed to have made sure that Jon wouldn’t stop smiling for the next year. If she got with child after that night, she would be untouchable. Even if Jon found evidence of her involvement with the separatists, he would probably turn a blind eye to it as Rhaegar had done to all of Lya’s acts of insubordination.

“I need you to do something for me.” Jon whispered to him as he dressed a coat over his clothes.

“Shouldn’t you get properly dressed first?” Ben suggested.

“I certainly don’t want to spend this day dealing with politics. I’ll go back to my wife as soon as possible, but I need to have some matters decided now.” The Prince said. “Have someone sent to fetch Lord Lannister and take him to the crypts.”

“Aye. I’ll do that if you promise that you’ll never give me this kind of job again.” Benjen growled in anger. “The whole castle heard you and I honestly hope that Ned has drunken himself to oblivion.”

“In my defense I must say that I was determinate to move to the room next door, but my lady surely knows how to be persuasive.” The nerve he had to say that with such an innocent face. Somewhere in the afterlife Lya was surely laughing a great deal at her brothers’ expenses.

“Save it to yourself. I don’t wanna know the details of how my nephew bedded my niece. To hear it was traumatic enough.”

They both went to the crypts after a while to wait for Lord Lannister to join them. Benjen had no idea of Jon’s reasons to chose the man for the job, since Rhaegar had reduced the family’s power and influence once Jaime, regardless to the facts behind the deeds, killed Aerys. Tywin Lannister died holding to the idea that one day his lineage would rule Westeros and cursing his younger deformed son for being a disgrace to his legacy.

Lord Tyrion took a while to arrive and it was understandable. He had some difficulty to walk, but otherwise was absolutely apt to perform most of the duties of Hand. The man had mismatched eyes and a grotesque face; a reputation of being an habitual costumer of brothels and the greatest mind of Westeros since his father’s death.

Tyrion looked at both Benjen and the Prince with a hideous smile on his face and a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“My Prince forsakes his bride’s company for mine. I’m honored indeed.” He said before bowing before the Prince.

“The Princess needed time to rest and recover her energies, while I needed to address some important matters.” Jon said with a smile. “I’m in great need of a man with your reputation.”

“Oh I can certainly give some advises that would make our dearest Princess very happy. You see...It’s all about taking your time.” Benjen rolled his eyes at that and Jon laughed.

“Not this kind of advise, but thank you for your concern.” Jon replied. “I know you are an ambitious man and your mind surely has a great reputation. Lord Arryn is too old and too sick to handle his duties. If he must be replaced at some point I’ll have no less than the finest mind in Westeros serving as Hand. Your lord father once had the honor, now I’m asking you to accept the position.”

Tyrion looked at him carefully and grinned at the Prince with satisfaction.

“It seems Your Highness have been studding my character. Flaws and virtues, along with all my weaknesses.” Tyrion said. “Appealing to my vanity is a clever move. Offering me what once was my Father’s position is even more cleverer. I hope the man is listening to this conversation from the Seven Hells and cursing my name.”

“Do you accept it, my lord?” Jon questioned.

“I’m honored to do so. I shall serve you and our King at the best of my capabilities.” Tyrion said with a courtesy.

“I expect great things from you, starting now.” Jon said with a voice of command that never failed to make Benjen proud. “Now that I wedded Lord Stark’s daughter, I hope to restore the faith and good relations between the Starks and the Iron Throne. I would be a fool to believe that this is something that will please all the land and the gods know this separatist talking have kept me awake long enough. I need to deal with it and I need to do it now.”

“How can I serve you in this, Your Highness?”

“I have spies all over the land. My Master of Whispers has been keeping me informed of the main actors in this.” Jon said carefully and for a second Benjen feared that Arya’s name had been mentioned. “So far I have a few names of relevance, but there is a piece of the puzzle missing. Someone from Lord Stark’s household has been helping this filthy and treacherous cause. It doesn’t seem to be an expressive involvement, but I need to know who is this person and the extension of the involvement.”

“Do you intent to make enemies of your new in-laws so soon? You are a weird man.” Tyrion pointed.

“Not enemies. The gods know my mother would curse me and all my lineage if I ever dared to point my finger at her kin and name them traitors.” Jon said and Benjen finally could breathe for a second. “If there is reason for my uncle, or any one in his household to be displeased with the Iron Throne I would rather have it solved in a different way. I would prefer have loyalties bought than heads on spikes, although at times the second is inevitable. I don’t think this sympathy will go on for long. Once Arya bare me a son this folly will end. If it’s a northern king with Stark blood what they want, they shall have it. Tonight I’ll take the lords’ vows of loyalty to the Iron Throne. Arrests will be made tomorrow morning and I want you to handled this discreetly. Take their testimonies and gather the evidences. I want to keep the executions to the minimal level and all of them will have a choice. It’s either the block or the black. If the name of any of my relatives is brought up, you’ll report it to me and then have it erased from the records.”

“All of them?” Tyrion asked carefully. “Even if the name is the one of the woman in your bed? I don’t want to disrespect the Her Highness, but this is a possibility. The gods know women can be as vicious and greedy in their ambitions as we are. My own sister should be proof enough of it.”

“Especially hers.” Jon reinforced to Benjen’s utter panic.

“Don’t you think you’ll ruin your marriage before it even started properly? You insult the lady for even suggesting she might be involved in this sort of things.” Benjen finally intervened.

“I know perfectly well the sort of woman I took for wife.” Jon answered coldly. “I do not doubt she would go this far just to prove a point or to hurt me. Arya will go to King’s Landing with me and once she gets with child she won’t act against it.”

“Why even bother to wed her at all if you already considered it to be a possibility?” Tyrion questioned curiously.

“For several reason, both political and private.” Jon answered calmly. “My bride comes along with the North and the Riverlands. Separatist or not, she is first and foremost a symbol and the personification of this new alliance. This land loves the name Stark and they know her as ‘Ned’s valiant girl’. They will never act against her and if any of the traitors dare to prove me wrong, there will be no choice. I’ll behead the bastard myself.”

“Careful, Your Highness.” Tyrion warned. “Although the political reasons are plenty, what I hear behind of every word is the voice of man blinded by love.”

“I’ve never said I wasn’t.” Jon smiled at him sadly. “I have faith though. Arya is a clever woman that can be reasoned with. If she is indeed involved, she will see the stupidity of this cause soon enough.”

For a second Benjen finally saw something he had ignored for a long time. Jon – sweet, kind and honorable as he was – had inside him the mind and the coldness of a king. Within his gray eyes there was a mighty storm.

Benjen looked at the statue of his father looking down on them with his solemn face and prayed he would protect Arya from the wrath of the Prince.

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

She woke up in an empty bed, naked, sore and smelling of Jon. Arya thought he would never let her sleep that night, but fortunately he dozed off a few hours before dawn.

Arya sat on the bed and looked at the sheets tainted with dry blood. The ghost of the initial pain remained and she could feel it in her lower abdomen. In a way it was like having the cramps that followed her monthly blood.

She rose from bed and dressed a thick robe before calling a servant to help her to get clean and dressed. Two girls came to help her and they had been kind enough to bring her breakfast too. Arya was starving, but once the girls bowed and called her Your Highness she put her plate aside.

That title was something she had yet to accept along with the name attached to it. _He made a Targaryen of me. I’m no longer Arya Stark._ The thought was a bitter and in a way she felt as if she was betraying her people, her land and even Robb’s memory for being weak.

Jon hasn’t only married her. He had made her cry out his name and beg him to slow down or go faster so she could get the most of those moments. He had made her enjoy the night and melt in his arms like a helpless maiden from a song. After that night Arya felt embarrassed, disgusted with herself and also strangely excited at every sound she heard in the hallways because it could be him coming back to her arms.

That night she would attend to her first official gathering as Princess of Dragonstone. Jon had made it clear that he wanted to everyone of her father’s banners to renew their fealty to the Iron Throne and Arya should stand by his side, not only as his wife, but as a symbol that the North and the Iron Throne were bind together.

The occasion demanded a level of attention to her looks, but the fact that the maids had been instructed to dress her in red and black was revolting. The red wool gown was not as fine as those made of silk, samite, velvet and damasks, but the color was exquisite and the fabric meant to keep her warm. The black sleeveless coat over it was a finer piece adorned with shadowcat fur. Her hair was braided and pined around her head like a crown with a net with red bids at the center.

Once Arya left the room, walking those familiar hallways, every living soul on her path to the Great Hall bowed and greeted her as Your Highness. It was the first time she felt a stranger in her own house.

Arya asked about her mother and was informed that Lady Catelyn was at the sept. More than anything she wanted the comfort of her mother’s presence for as long as possible. The idea that she might never see her lady mother again broke her heart.

She found Lady Stark lighting candled at the Mother’s and the Maid’s feet. _Mourning her maiden daughter and praying that I’ll give Jon a son as soon as possible._ The thought was a bitter one, but it made Arya wonder if the last night had been enough for her to get with child. Arya walked toward her mother and stood by her side with her hands in prayer.

Lady Catelyn turned to her after a while and bowed like everyone else.

“Your Highness.” Her mother said.

“Don’t call me that, Mother.” Arya said before kissing her cheek. “Not you.”

“Trying to fight against the tide is useless.” Lady Stark said while caressing her daughter’s face. “This is who you are from now on; Princess of Dragonstone until the day you are crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You were born a Stark, but you have something of me in you. Family, duty and honor. You must live by these words too and your husband is your new family.”

“I feel like a strange in my own house.” Arya said sadly. “It feels like I don’t belong here anymore.”

“This is your Father’s house and your childhood’s home. Now you’ll build a home of your own, but the stoned you’ll lay at the foundations will be of the same granite of the wall of Winterfell. This place will always be a part of you, but it’s time to move on.”

Arya hugged her mother tightly and Lady Stark petted her daughter’s back lightly.

“I’m scared.” Arya whispered.

“I know.” Catelyn answered with sympathy. “I was scared too, but it will pass and in time you’ll find your happiness.” There was a solemn silence for a while as the remained in a loving embrace. “Did he hurt you?” Lady Stark asked in concern. “Was he cruel to you?”

“No.” Arya said simply. “The pain is...It’s more like a discomfort now. Jon was...He was careful and gentle.” She said. It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the truth either. Indeed he had been very mindful of her well-being, but the memory of all the filthy things said, the shameless caresses and positions came back to her mind all at once. “It actually...It felt good.” Arya could feel her cheeks burning and at that her mother giggled. “Is it wrong?”

“No. No, it isn’t.” Lady Catelyn said with a light smile. Probably the first since Robb died. “It’s a mother’s duty to prepare her children for the worst. Most of us are thought to accept, to endure, but not to enjoy it. If he treats you well and you like to be in his company then I think you have been very blessed in your marriage. I only felt like this after a while, but I know how sweet it can be.”

“Do you think...” Arya took a deep breath and looked at the Mother’s altar. “Do you think I’m with child already?”

“You might be.” Cat smiled at her. “I prayed for it, but you’ll probably only know when you reach the capitol. I’ve been blessed with five children, Sansa is expecting her second already. I don’t think you have reason to worry. Children will come in due time.”

“Would you come to King’s Landing if I asked you to?” Arya questioned. “Not for long, just when...If...If I get with child? The idea of being alone is terrifying.”

“I’ll be honored to. How could I refuse to assist our Princess?”

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

When he came back to their chambers, Arya had already left. Servants said the Princess was at the sept, praying with her lady mother. _Praying for sons and daughters, I hope. Not for rebellion and an early widowhood._

Jon took the time to wash himself and change clothes before the gathering started. Now that he had a Stark for wife, they North would bend the knee and the separatist notion would be crushed. Varys had already presented him with a number of relevant names. The gathering would serve for him to evaluate how willing those men and women were to accept that they survival depended on the alliance with the Iron Throne.

The question that remained was who had been supporting the cause inside Winterfell. He hoped it to be someone of Lord Stark’s inner circle; Cassel or maybe Poole, even Maester Luwin was a possibility, but Jon’s greatest fear was to find one of his relatives plotting against him and not even his wife could be excluded from his suspicions.

Tyrion would get him the answers he needed and the Prince could only pray that the gods would grant him the necessary wisdom to handle the problem without turning it into a war.

Once more he was dressed all in black, with only his chain of gold and rubies resting over his shoulders. His face covered by a mask of cold conviction. A face that would give nothing away. _Kill the boy and let the man born. I am who I am. My Father’s son before anything else._ _I’ll have the North and then Viserys will dream of my hands strangling his neck. He will know no peace until I have his head for being a filthy traitor._

With his sword by his side, Jon left the room to the Great Hall where a number of guests already waited. Lord Stark was there, along with Brandon. Arya and Lady Catelyn were nowhere to be seen.

“Good day, Uncle.” Jon greeted him. “Brandon.”

“It’s surely an odd day for such a thing. You should be with my daughter.” Lord Stark answered soberly.

“There is nothing I want more than to be in her company for days, but matters of State do not wait for a Prince’s pleasures.” Jon replied sharply. “I’ll have their oaths and then I’ll have the traitors’ heads. Only then I’ll be able to pay my wife all the attention she needs. Fear not, I’ll give you grandchildren soon enough. She might already be carrying the future King inside her anyway.”

That was enough to silence Lord Stark and the gods knew Jon had been honest about his answer. After their wedding night he could hardly keep his mind away from all those sweet memories. Had he found Arya before that damn gathering he would have taken her again.

“Arya is with our mother.” Brandon said politely. “I understand she craved for some feminine companion and to enjoy our mother’s soothing presence while she can. Life at the capitol must sound scary to her.”

“Indeed. I would never deprive her of motherly comfort. The gods know I miss it dearly.” Jon said before taking his place.

In a few minutes Arya entered the room followed by Lady Stark. It was the first time Jon have ever seen her wearing the Targaryen colors and all of her hair tamed in an up do. As she walked across the room to take the place by his side and all the guests bowed in her honor, Jon saw not the girl he had fall in love so madly a year ago. He saw a true Queen.

Arya took her place in silence and without looking at him. There was a level of dignity expected of highborn women after their wedding nights, but Jon wouldn’t mind if her proved to be as rebellious as ever. Jon held her hand and kissed the back of it tenderly.

“Good day, wife.” He said in a soft tone making her blush in answer. “I’m sorry about leaving you alone so early. I had matters to solve that couldn’t be neglected, but my heart’s wish was to be with you.”

“You don’t need to explain yourself.” She answered finally looking at him. “I wanted to have some time with my mother anyway. Have you solved this urgent matters of yours?”

“I believe so.” He smiled at her fondly. She had this stranger power over him. This talent for making him soft, helpless and eager for the smallest hint of her affection. “Once we are done here, I’m all yours.”

“Than we should get started. Don’t you think?” She caressed his hand gently as her eyes looked at him sweetly. “I feel...Empty without you.”

That was all what it took to make him hard inside his trousers and desperate to get done with that damn gathering immediately.

One by one the names were called and the Lords would kneel in front of them presenting their swords and pledging their loyalties to both the Iron Throne and the Houses Stark and Targaryen. As expected, not all of them seemed pleased with the words spoken, but none would risk being sentenced for treason on spot.

Those who Jon knew to be separatist presented themselves with either sour faces or condescending smiles. The Prince looked at them closely and accepted their oaths, knowing that in a few days those heads would be standing at Winterfell’s gates on a spike. Arya said nothing. She remained by his side and accepted the congratulations on her wedding and all the good wishes the Stark’s banners had to offer her.

Once all the oaths had been made and accepted a feast followed with plenty of music and ale to turn it into a funny event. This time Jon even invited his wife for a dance as he did in their first banquet at King’s Landing. For a moment he allowed himself to be free of suspicions and to simply enjoy Arya’s smiles and company as if they were just a man and a woman starting a life together.

When they went back to their room Jon observed her removing the net and the pins from hair hair. The curve of her neck as she started to undo her braids. Jon hug her from behind and kissed her neck, making Arya let go of her hair. His avid hands pulled her skirt, trying to get rid from all those layers between them.

Jon’s hand found it’s way to her private parts as the other arm kept her tightly pressed against him. His fingers slid into her, making Arya protest a bit. Soon she relaxed and the sounds she made felt like music.

When he felt her all silky and wet, Jon made her kneel and use their bed for support to her upper body, as he freed his cock from the restrictions of his trousers. He knelled behind her, between her slightly parted legs. He only needed to hike up her skirt once more, leaving her ass bare to his touch.

Jon slid his cock into her tight and slippery cunt, making Arya grab the covers of their bed and bite her hand to contain a small cry. He would worry about undressing in a more convenient time, when his mind was less poisoned by lust.

At every thrust he tried to reach deeper, making Arya complain at times. It didn’t take long for her legs to start to tremble. Soon Jon felt her inner muscles tightening as if trying to hold him inside her.

“Faster!” She commanded and he was more than happy to obey.

Arya let some short cries escape her mouth every time he pumped into her, until those sounds were replaced by a long moan as her body convulsed in pleasure.

Jon lasted a bit longer, but when release came it was a powerful and blinding sensation. He took a few seconds to recover his breath and senses before getting back on his feet and removing his clothes fully. Then he helped Arya to her feet and unlaced her dress.

“We are not sleeping tonight, are we?” She asked lazily before turning to face him. Arya threw her arms around his necks for support and Jon kissed her mouth hungrily.

“No. I don’t think we are.” He answered with a suggestive smirk as his hands grabbed her ass. “I’m a good husband, you know? If my lady wife says she feels empty without me than it’s my duty and honor to fill her with my presence and my seed.” He kissed her once more. “Now...I want you to lay on your back and keep this beautiful legs spread for me.”

Arya did as he said. She laid among the pillows and parted her legs. Her eyes were no longer shy about looking at him. Arya placed her hand write above the entrance of her cunt and started to touch herself. In no time he was hard and buried inside her again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess it's safe to say that Benjen needs better payment, a bottle of tequila, a bit of therapy and maybe a hug.  
> I hope you'll like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


	14. Chapter 14

She woke up to the loud noises in the corridors. The castle seemed to have been awaken earlier than usual. Jon was still soundly sleeping by her side and didn’t even notice when Arya got out of bed to see what was happening.

Arya dressed her chemise and a thick robe over it before opening the door. Bran was coming through the hallway with a sober face and fully dressed. Cassel and Maester Luwin behind him, all of them with sober faces.

“What’s going on?” Arya asked once she closed the door of the room.

“Chaos.” Bran answered briefly while Cassel and Maester Luwin walked away. “You better stay inside your room. This is not the right place for you to be right now.”

“Why? Would you tell me what’s happening or I’ll have to command you to do so?” Arya asked sharply and Bran took a deep breath.

“The arrests started. Targaryen soldiers under Lord Tyrion’s command took Lord Karstark, Great Jon Umber, Bolton and his bastard, and Lady Dustin to the dungeon. Inquiries will start. Father called us to discuss what should be done.” Bran said.

“At this point, do nothing. Any interference can be misunderstood.” Arya replied. “Only nobles?”

“For now. I believe he is inclined to spare the common folk, but he will make an example of someone.” Bran grabbed her arm tightly and nearly dragged her as far as possible from her room. “I hope you have been smart enough to burn everything.”

“Of course I burned. I’m not stupid.” Arya replied angrily. “I haven’t talked to anyone for a month or more.”

“It’s no less dangerous. Your name and Robb’s can still be mentioned.” Bran’s voice was a concerned one. “I hope your only involvement is your supposed influence inside this house and even so...In your place I would make a real effort to keep him happy now. If only you had been wedded sooner...At this point you could say you were with child or something. He would have reason to turn a blind eye to your transgressions.”

“I’m as valuable to him now as I was before. Jon doesn’t want to be called Maegor. He wants to be loved by lords and commoners alike. Without a Stark by his side he will never managed to win the North’s loyalty. Besides...I might be with child already.” Arya said stubbornly, although she knew Bran had some reason to be worried.

“Careful. You might not be as safe as you think.” Bran warned. “A suggestion. Don’t let him get out of bed for the day and act as if you were madly in love with him. Only leave your room to go to the sept or the godswood and even so ask mother to keep you company. This is not a time for you to be your wild self. Be the Princess; noble, polite, kind, pious and quiet.”

“Will you keep me informed?” Arya asked carefully.

“So you can find a way to get even more involved in this? You may want to kill yourself for a lost cause, but I won’t let you. You are not a martyr, nor a hero. You are what you are. Arya of Winterfell, Princess of Dragonstone, Queen-to-be and mother to future kings. If you want to help our people, this will be your weapons and tools, not treason.”

“How did he know the names?” Arya asked vaguely. “How could he?”

“There is a reason for the existence of a Master of Whispers in the Small Council. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had at least one of your maids as a spy. That’s why you’ll say nothing to them but how much you love your Prince and how good he is to you. Play with his vanity and virility if you must, but keep your head above your shoulders and attached to your body.”

Bran kissed her forehead and caressed her face. His eyes were full of concern and sympathy. Even though she was older than him, Bran would always think of her as his little sister and he was honor bound to protect her as any good brother should.

“Go back to your husband now. I’ll come to you as soon as I can.” Bran said kindly.

Bran disappeared in the dark hallways leaving her behind with all of her fears. What would happen now?

The only one of those she was somewhat close to was Alys’ father, the others she only knew to be sympathizers. Most of the time she had only talked to the small folk and listened to their complains. There was a general sense of abandonment in their hearts, especially with winter so close. _The King has never been in the North. How could he know of our suffering and needs?_ That was the usual question. _Jaehaerys was a good King. He cared and so did his good Queen Alysane._

That was the general feeling and bitterness. Most of the men and women she had listened had lost someone during the war and even with a northerner for his queen, Rhaegar had done nothing to the North except bringing war to their doorsteps.

Lords took the opportunity to fuel the idea that the North would be better if detached from Westeros. Most of them would never suggest another ruler but one of Stark blood and that was why Robb was so important to them. He could have done what their father wouldn’t, but Arya doubted his name to be a unanimity. A Stark would never be at peace whenever a Bolton was involved and Arya was quite aware of the kind of creatures they were.

Maybe Bran was right. Maybe the best way to help her people and those who trusted the name Stark was not by war and rebellion, but by becoming a good Queen to them, like Alysane. A Queen that cared and listened.

Arya went back to her room and laid by Jon’s side again. She rested her head against his chest and he held her almost by instinct.

“Are you cold?” He asked groggy while adjusting to hold her in a more comfortable way.

“No.” She whispered. “I had a nightmare.”

He opened his eyes lazily and caressed her face.

“You don’t need to fear a thing.” His voice was warm and tender as he rubbed his nose against hers. “I’m here. I won’t let nothing happen to you.”

“Promise?” She questioned out of insecurity.

“I promise.” He said kindly. “Sleep now. You need to rest.”

Arya felt his fingers scratching her scalp lightly. It felt good and intimate to be this close to him, in such a vulnerable hour. They were not thinking of sex, or blinded by lust. It was just the touch, the quietness and an odd sense of belonging she still struggled to accept.

Arya closed her eyes and made a silent pray to her gods. She prayed Jon would never find out what she had done. She prayed he would accept her advises when the time was right and respect her mind like Jaehaerys I respected his Queen’s.

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

When he woke up Arya was still sleeping close to him. Her face was relaxed and serene in a way that made her look more like a child or a maiden of a song than the fierce and wild woman he knew her to be.

Jon would have to leave her presence soon, but he wished to stay like that a while longer. He allowed himself to have hope that his wife was slowly warming up to him and appreciating his company as he appreciated hers. As Lord Lannister said, he had been blinded by love and was fool enough to look at a woman as bold as Arya and not see the danger behind her gray eyes.

Arya would be the death of him, but in that moment she was his only joy in the world.

A knock at their door made Jon get out of bed, accidentally waking her up in the process. He dressed his robe and walked toward the door. It was Benjen with news.

“What is it?” He asked in a sleepy tone.

“We have them.” Benjen said briefly. “Lord Lannister asks if Your Highness would like to be present during the inquiries.”

“Any evidences so far?” Jon asked before giving Ben a straightforward answer.

“Only those Varys intercepted.” Benjen answered. “No other names.”

“Good.” Jon said vaguely. “I’ll let it in Lord Lannister’s hands for now. I don’t want anyone alarmed for now. Have someone sent to help Her Highness. I’ll go to Lord Stark as soon as I’m dressed.”

Benjen simply nod before taking his leave. When Jon turned back to face Arya, his wife was already awake and out of bed. She looked at him with curiosity.

“Did you manage to sleep after your nightmare?” He asked her fondly.

“Yes. Not as well as I would have liked, but at least I feel rested.” She said while walking towards him. “Are you leaving me already?”

“I’m afraid so. I have to attend to some urgent matters and once I’m done with them we will be able to go home.” He said before kissing her lips.

“I am home.” Arya replied with an eyebrow raised.

“Your new home then.” Jon corrected himself. “I can barely wait for you to meet my sister as I can barely wait to see her again.”

“What are these urgent matters? Something I can help you with?” That was a dangerous question, wasn’t it? One that could easily give her some advantage in case she was indeed involved.

“Dull things about the storage and the glasshouses. I’ll probably spend the day with maesters checking the numbers and then I’ll spend noon trying to get some Lannister money to finance the damn thing.”

“Why are you even doing these things? Storage? Glasshouses? I’ve never heard of a King or Prince Regent that ever bothered with these matters.” Arya pointed as she threw her arms around his neck.

“I’ve listened to your people and I understand that something must be done to make the storage and distribution of food more efficient during winter. Your father would hardly be able to do it on his own, but with the crown financing it...I think it might work.” He said before kissing her. “I married a northern princess and now I’ll feed my wife’s people. See? I can be diplomatic.”

“I’m honestly impressed.” She said. “But I’m also sad that you will leave me on my own all day. How am I suppose to give you sons if you won’t stay in my bed long enough?”

“Is this your way of trying to convince me to stay?” Jon asked with a playful grin.

“Maybe.” Arya said as a matter of fact. “Is it working?”

Jon answered her with a greedy kiss before taking her to bed again. Even if those words were false and Arya wished for him dead, Jon would never ignore such a tempting offer. He simply couldn’t have enough of her and it was a maddening thing to be that dependent on Arya’s presence. She felt like a drug. Her voice calling his name, her touches and breath against his neck...All of it seemed to sooth the constant pain of grief. When Arya was near, he was not a Prince or an orphan. When she was near, he was only a man.

It was all too fast and intense. He didn’t have much time to spare and dealing with the separatists was his priority. Once he recovered his breath and moved away from her, Arya looked at him with annoyance.

She was still laid, with her legs spread and all sticky between her tights. Her face gave away her dissatisfaction. Arya covered her body with the sheets of their bed for the sake of her modesty.

“The servants will be here soon.” Jon said tenderly. “I promise you I’ll come back to you as soon as I can. Maybe you should sleep some more. Nobody will question it if you stay abed a while longer.”

Jon got dressed and left the room once Arya’s maids arrived to help her.

On his way to the dungeons it was clear that all the castle already knew of the arrests. So much for discretion, but he supposed that it would be just a matter of time until people realized that his staying at Winterfell had several purposes and dealing with a rebellion was one of them.

Lord Stark was anxious and with good reason too. Lord Karstark was closely related to the Starks. Robb had wedded his daughter after all and that lead suspicion back to his uncle’s house. Bran seemed to be indifferent or at least more serene than his father was.

“Is my daughter still sleeping?” Eddard asked as soon as Jon took his seat at the Great Hall.

“The maids were helping her to get dressed. Arya should be here soon.” Jon replied calmly.

“Was it really necessary?” Bran asked calmly. “To arrest them, I mean.”

“No one has been arrested. The were simply conducted by my guards to be inquired.” Jon replied cautiously.

“I doubt any of them will be able to walk freely once the inquires are over.” Lord Stark’s voice was bitter. “They were guests. This is highly inappropriate.”

“Treason is what I call inappropriate and I’m afraid that I have strong evidences against them.” Jon’s voice was even and tranquil. His uncle was positively afraid of what the Prince would find, but why? “The inquiries are meant to investigate other members of this rebellion.”

“What will be of them? Will you sentence all to death?” Bran questioned, trying to stay as calm as possible.

“It will depend on a number of factors. Repentance and cooperation for an example. If they recognize the King in the Iron Throne as their one true sovereign than I might spare their lives and allow them to take the black.”

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

Lord Tyrion never considered himself to be a cruel or violent man. Ruthless? Yes. Ambitious? Definitely, but cruelty and violence brought him no pleasure. At times they were necessary, but generally he thought them to be traces of ignorance and stupidity. He liked to be known as a fair lord to his people, but when the Prince Regent names you Hand and demand of you evidences against rebellious rats, things were inevitably more delicate.

Lady Dustin was cooperative enough by informing that Umber and Karstark had been the most engaged in the talking of separatism. It was also no surprise when Karstark had his only daughter married to Robb Stark. The man had ambitions of seeing his daughter made Queen and her children made princes and princesses.

There was an understanding that Robb Stark had been favorable to the separatist ideal. His participation in any rebellious act wasn’t clear. The young man most likely enjoyed thinking of himself as King in The North, but didn’t seem interested on acting upon it. Anyway the boy was dead along with his wife. Lord Tyrion thought it to be for the best. Dead men tell no tales and it would be easier to avoid any sort of scandal involving the Prince’s in-laws.

Lady Dustin’s involvement was also unclear. As far as Tyrion could see the woman was simply well-informed of what was going around. She didn’t seem to like the Starks, but as long as she didn’t speak of it out loud, there was no crime. Her testimony only reinforced what Vary’s spies had already said.

Karstark was undoubtedly involved though, along with Great Jon Umber; who seemed to enjoy shouting to anyone who might care to listen that Targaryens had no right to the North. The dragon lords had the wrong traditions, ruled the land by fear and even their gods were wrong. With no dragons to force the North to its knees, there was no reason to fear them.

With Bolton and his bastard things seemed to be different.

Between Karstark and Umber there was some sort of friendship and both agreed that the only King the North should follow was one of Stark blood. There was no other option to that. The Starks were loved and respected all over the land. People would kill and die for them, except Roose Bolton and his natural son.

Lady Dustin said that once Robb Stark died, Roose had become interested in Lady Arya and a possible union between their houses. He would either marry the girl himself or have her married to his bastard. Both options were clearly insulting to Lord Stark, but Roose’s ambitions were very clear. They didn’t want a free North so the Starks could rule it. Bolton wanted the North for himself, but to have the support in his ambitions he would need a Stark girl to legitimate his claim. That was not only treason against the King, but also against Lord Stark.

“How can I trust your words, my lady? So far you confirmed things I already knew to be true, but...Anyone with eyes can see that this land adores the name Stark. I don’t see why anyone would follow Bolton, even if he had succeeded.” Tyrion pointed carefully.

“Love the Starks you say...Lyanna Stark brought war to our doorsteps. Thousands died so she could marry her perfect prince. I buried my husband because of her, like so many others buried their loved ones. The North loves the Starks indeed, but the North remembers.” Lady Dustin said. “Bolton’s plan is just a reflex of it. Nobody really wants the man to rule the land, but if he managed to get the girl...Well. He wouldn’t really mind an insurrection against Lord Stark. Then it would be a fight for independence, or negotiations with the Iron Throne so his claim would be recognized as legitimate. Your Prince was faster though.”

“Was Lord Karstark aware of this plan?” Tyrion questioned with interest.

“No. The old man would never agree with it. Not when he had planed for his daughter to be a queen. Now she is with Robb Stark at the bottom of the sea. If there was treason from their part, now they can no longer be punished. Umber is more like Karstark in this and he loved Robb Stark dearly.”

“Do you know of anyone else involved in this?” Tyrion had yet to address the most urgent matter. “Someone from Winterfell other than Robb Stark?”

“One could say that Lord Stark had been very relapse in dealing with this matter. One can wonder why.” Lady Dustin said carefully. “Eddard Stark is an honor bound man, but even the righteous man would do the most stupid things to protect his children. Brandon Stark is his father’s son. The other boy is too young to understand a thing of what was going on, while the pretty girl always favored the South. The Princess though...A rebel by nature and grief can fuel the most stupid thought.”

“This is dangerous territory, madam. You are accusing Her Highness of a terrible crime and so far you presented no evidence to sustain your allegations.” Tyrion warned.

“Ask the Stark boy, torture the Bolton bastard or offer him pardon in exchange for collaboration. He will tell you all about a young lady who loves nothing better than to listen to separatists. Your Prince must know it or at least suspect of it.” Lady Dustin insisted. “Why would he wed her and then have all the North renewing its loyalty? The Princess is a clear warning to those who think of rebellion. Even her was brought to her knees and wrapped up in Targaryen colors. Once she is with child, her loyalty will be to the Iron Throne and her child’s future, while the North has the perspective of having a half Stark seating on the Iron Throne one day. That cunning boy you serve...He is more clever than we thought, isn’t he?”

“Torture the bastard you said? Why Roose’s son?” Tyrion questioned with avid curiosity.

“His father filled his head with the idea that Ramsay would have a Stark bride and he tried to approach the girl. He may even have written to her, although I doubt she bothered to remember his name or ever encouraged his poor attempt on courtship.

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

He had hoped Tyrion would prove him wrong. He had prayed for it, but all to no avail. As Lady Dustin had suggested, the Bolton bastard had a letter, supposedly written by Arya. The man had been foolish enough to believe Arya would ever marry someone as low born as he, but he tried to court her nonetheless.

The letter was brief, but incriminating enough to confirm Jon’s suspicions.

 

“ _A free North is the dream of every man and woman born in this land. How could we ever be happy with a king that knows nothing of our ways?_

_I know your heart is true and your enthusiasm to the cause is invigorating, but I am not a free woman. This what you suggest can not be, but I hope my answer wont sway your commitment to our land._

_A.S.”_

 

He read those words about a dozen times and still found it hard to believe that Arya would be so bold to actually communicate with that kind of scum. It was not only about treason and rebellion. That bastard had dared to write to her in an attempt of winning her heart. Ramsay Snow at least got an answer turning down his offer, while the Prince never received the same kindness.

Jon wasn’t surprised to find the evidence, but it made the experience no less painful. He had given Arya his heart just so she would go back to her home to plot with traitors against him and his father.

The cause actually suited her rebel nature. It also explained Eddard’s silence. Arya was his favorite after all and he would never do a thing that might lead to her execution.

The Prince closed his eyes and tried to think what to do next. How could he possibly handle a wife that would gladly cut his throat in the middle of the night? How could he ever trust Arya? It felt like losing his mother a second time. Jon opened his eyes to face the fire in front of him realizing how lonely he truly was.

That was the fate of Kings. A life lived to serve a higher purpose. A life of sacrifices and abandonment. He had been a fool to believe that Arya would ever be to him a refuge. During all that time he had been loving alone and his marriage was getting closer to how his parents’ looked like.

When he listened to the door opening, Jon felt rage burning through his veins.

“Where were you?” He asked soberly as Arya removed her cloak and the pins of her hair.

“I was with my mother. Then I went to the godswood.” Arya replied as a matter of fact.

“Alone?” Jon kept questioning as if he was conducting an inquiry.

“Well...Yes. I prefer to pray alone.” She sounded annoyed by his questions, but didn’t seem to suspect them. “Am I not free to have a moment with the gods?”

“Free...I guess you have always been free, hasn’t you?” Jon said carefully before raising from his chair to turn and look at her properly. “I never had the luxury, you see. My fate had already been determinate by my birth and every step I gave in life was meant to prepare me for the day I’ll have the crown upon my head.”

“I’m aware of that much. It’s not as if my life has been much different.” Arya replied with a hint of sarcasm.

“Oh but it has.” Jon corrected her. “Now I realize how dangerous freedom can be, especially if given carelessly to one of a rebel nature.”

“I don’t understand the purpose of this speech. What exactly have I done to you to deserve to be lectured as if I were a child?” Arya didn’t seem to realize the danger of her position. She kept her head high and her spirit unbent and unbroken. Jon handed her the letter.

“Did you write this letter?” Jon asked with his teeth clenched in anger. Arya opened the parchment and read it carefully.

“Do you believe I wrote it?” Arya replied.

“You tell me in what I should believe. A separatist traitor presented this letter claiming it to be a reply to another one. The first letter is irrelevant at this point, when this one is proof enough that you have been supporting these filthy traitors.” His voice was low and dangerous, but Arya had the heart and the mind of a soldier. Fear was something she would never display when confronted.

“Whatever I say will be useless.” Arya said before seating by the fire place. “You already decided that I am guilty. Even if I had written this letter, don’t you think it to be too vague? There’s nothing here that says treason. Nothing that points to actual involvement or any actions made in favor of this cause. What I see is a letter of a woman that loves her country and thinks the King to be a distant man that doesn’t know much about the North. A committed woman, rejecting a suitor and nothing more.”

“What of the signature? A.S...Your initials. You dare say that you didn’t write it?” Jon’s tone was an outraged one.

“You forget that my sister-in-law was Alys Stark. The same initials. I’m sure that other women might also have them. It could have been Alys, or it could have been someone else. It’s way more polite than whatever I could manage to write anyway. Again. This letter proves nothing but the fact that you are determinate to find me guilty of a crime, so you can punish me for whatever I’ve done to make you feel rejected.” She replied bitterly. “If this marriage proves to be a failure, remember this moment. You are the one looking for proof of my said treason and we haven’t been married for a week yet. It’s actually revolting that you chose to believe a no one, than to believe in me. The person who gave you this is accusing a Royal Princess, your wife, of treason and instead of calling for his head you are almost calling for mine.”

“It’s very much like your handwriting, Arya. I’ve seen it before, remember?” Jon wasn’t about to give up just yet, even if what she said made sense.

“Which could have been forged to incriminate me, or even to poison our marriage, which is already happening. You need me by your side to reinforce your control over the North, don’t you? If you turn against me all of our efforts will be wasted. The Iron Throne’s authority will be damaged for good and the separatists will have the perfect moment to act.” Arya rose from her seat once more to face him. She walked towards him and touched his chest tenderly. “You can chose to believe in a piece of parchment that says nothing relevant, or you can use all of your intelligence and reason and see the obvious. Why would I act against you when I might be already carrying your child? I may have wronged you before out of childish stubbornness, but there is a limit to it. We are one. You either believe that and trust me, or we will never work. Do you trust me, Jon?”

There was silence for a minuted. Jon held her face between his hands and rested his forehead against hers.

“I do. I trust you, Arya.” He said as if a tremendous weight had been pulled out of his shoulders. Arya was right. That was nothing but a half cooked plot. “I trust you completely. I’m sorry. I’m a stupid fool for doubting you.”

She kissed his lips in answer and Jon replied to it with joy until both of them were breathless.

“I think this should be burned.” Arya said before throwing the letter into the fire.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like it (I'm not particularly happy with the result). Reviews are highly appreciated.


	15. Chapter 15

Although he had said that he trusted her, Arya knew deep down that Jon’s words were more of a desperate attempt of ignoring the obvious than a sincere agreement.

Burning a letter wasn’t enough to erase the damage it already caused. Arya was painfully aware that from that moment on she would be walking on thin ice for the rest of her life. She could feel it in her bones. Jon would punish her. It could take a year or a decade for it to happen, but it would happen and Arya had to agree that she deserved it to some extension.

She would never be ashamed of fighting for what she thought to be best for her people. Who could blame her? Until Jon’s arrival in the North, no other ruler had bothered to question what they needed, especially with winter nearly upon them. Independence sounded like a good alternative, no matter how unlikely it could be. Only a true northerner could ever understand that land, but at least Jon seemed to be trying to learn their ways at the best of his capabilities.

Her only regret was not being able to help the others. Not the Boltons, but Great Jon and Karstark were good men that had shared with her the same dream. Arya couldn’t even ask Jon what he would do to them without risking another accusation against her.

The silence between them felt like an odd dance. Jon smiled at her and talked to her as gently as ever, but every now and then Arya could feel his inquisitive gaze on her. She had considered telling him the truth and claim to be repentant, but she doubted it would do any good. Arya lied to him instead and she would be forced to see those men being executed when she should be by their side.

The trials had been a suffocating experience. Jon allowed her father to conduct that farce, with Lord Lannister and Lord Manderly to assist him, while the Prince served as prosecutor. Arya watched everything thing with apprehension and guilt. The trial lasted a couple of days and her name could be brought up again at any moment.

Jon had insisted on having her all dressed in black and red during those days. That was propaganda, pure and simple. A clear message to remember anyone who might still hope for a free and independent North that House Stark would never back up the cause. Jon was way more clever than she gave him credit for. He had made a symbol of her. She was the North submitted to a Targaryen ruler.

During those days her uncle had been designated to guard her. In practical terms it felt like she was a prisoner. Benjen was like a white shadow following her around the castle, even during her prayers at the godswood.

“You are safe.” Benjen eventually said when Arya went to the godswood once the court was dismissed. “For now, at least.”

Arya turned to look at him with curiosity.

“I don’t know what you are talking about, Uncle.” She answered with a cold voice. “All this chaos is maddening and those men had shared bread and salt with us several times before. It pains me to see them standing accused of such a vile crime.”

“Gods! You are even better at this than Lya.” He replied in an acid tone. “I’m not Jon. I don’t need to believe in your lies and acting, no matter how good they are. I see you praying daily and I doubt you have ever been this pious in your entire life. I know a guilty person when I see one.”

“Should I remind you that you are accusing a Royal Princess?” Arya cut him immediately. At that Benjen simply laughed.

“You surely learned how to hide behind the title. It took Lya a while to play this card.” He replied before taking a root for his seat. “You are my niece first, just like Jon is my nephew and I would be a shitty uncle if I didn’t do my job. You have been very reckless about your actions. This dream of yours, no matter how sweet it is, would never work. Not when the Iron Throne still holds power over the other kingdoms. The only thing you’ve got with your stubborn idealism is an everlasting suspicion between you and Jon.”

“Are you done with the lecture?” Arya looked at him in a cold voice.

“Not quite.” He smiled at her sadly. “It’s unsettling to look at you and see a younger version of my sister. I feel even more inclined to protect you, even if I have to protect you from yourself. Jon won’t say it, but you are under house-arrest. You are being followed everywhere and I’m not the only one doing it.”

“Why giving me the information than?” Arya asked while turning her face to look at the heart tree.

“Because he suspected you even before the letter. He instructed Lord Lannister to go to him directly if any evidence was found against you or your family. Jon said he would rather buy loyalties than have heads on spikes. That means he will try to reach an agreement with you so you will work with him instead of against him.”

“I still don’t understand why you are telling me this when you could be accused as well. You are acting against the Prince Regent, aren’t you?” She looked back at him. “I’m sure you know this information gives me some level of advantage.”

“I wondered why Jon brought me to that meeting with Lannister for a while until I understood that telling you this is exactly what Jon expected of me.” Benjen replied. “Until that moment I was terrified for you, but when I heard them talking I realized that he had been trying to comfort me and also trying to deliver you a message. He trusts my loyalty to him as much as he trusts your intelligence. Don’t prove him wrong.”

“What message is that?” She lowered her head a bit.

“This cause is done. You must accept it if you have any hope of finding some happiness in your life. He will help the North, he will keep you and your family out of this mess you and Robb created, but you must stop right now.” Benjen’s voice was incisive, but also carrying. “Jon needs you to hold the North. If you play by the rules he might even come to have you as his adviser, but for this to happen he must trust your loyalty first. Be smart, girl. If the gods are good you’ll soon give him a son. A future king with Stark blood. This is the best scenario the North will ever get and you have the chance of helping this land in a way Lya didn’t. Lyanna started this chaos at the moment she ran away with Rhaegar. Do you want to tear this country apart like she did, or do you want to heal the wounds she left open?”

“I’m loyal to my people and my family first. I know when I am defeated and I don’t want them to suffer because of my stupidity.” Arya’s voice was a sad one. “I thought I was doing the right thing for them. I wanted to help the common folk so they wouldn’t bury their starved children during winter. I wanted to live free from tyranny and the only thing I’ll get is a number of corpses.”

“Your age could serve as an excuse in your case, but Karstark and Umber were old enough to know what they were doing. You have no blame in their treason.” Benjen tried to comfort her. “Anyway...I doubt Jon will have them killed. When he picks someone to make an example of it will be Bolton and his bastard for daring to approach you with their proposals. If Karstark and Umber bend the knee and pledge him loyalty, Jon might grant them pardon.”

“How do you know this? He came to the North with a thirst for blood and full of anger.” Arya pointed. “He will have their heads.”

“At times I forget you don’t know him as well as I do.” Benjen smirked. “He is a good boy. A sweet and kind boy trying to cope with a cruel and vicious world while still being true to himself. Jon was never cruel. He abhors the idea of becoming like Viserys or Aerys, but he must prove himself to be a strong ruler. Karstark already lost his daughter and I believe Jon could consider it as a sufficient penalty. Umber might have some land confiscated to pay for the storage houses Jon wants to build, or he can take the black. Bolton and his bastard were too stupid to have both Targaryens and Starks offended. If I know my nephew at all, Jon has already decided who dies and who lives. If you are to reach an agreement with him, you will have to confess first.”

Arya took a deep breath and finally allowed her tears to fall. If it was relief or frustration, she couldn’t tell. She couldn’t handle Benjen looking at her with pity. It made her feel even more stupid and powerless.

“Why did he let me burn the letter? Why did he said he trusted me when he did not?” Arya asked.

“Because he would have burned the letter anyway or because he can’t bare the idea of losing you for good.” Benjen closed his eyes and clenched his teeth. “He needed an excuse to spare you, even if just to ease his conscience and not waste his efforts to keep the North in friendly terms with the crown. Your intelligence didn’t fail you and Jon held to those excuses to defend your innocence.” His voice was sad. “I’ve helped to grow him into a man. The one thing he have always wanted was to marry for love even if that was an unlikely thing to happen. Now that he managed to do so he can’t accept that he still might live miserably like Lya and Rhaegar did for most of their marriage.”

“Was it really bad?” Arya couldn’t help the curiosity. “The Queen...I remember her speaking of the King with fondness.”

“Lyanna loved the man, but the guilt and the war nearly drained her of any feelings for him. Rhaegar was no better than her. By the end...It comforts me to know that at least in her last year she have been truly happy, but the gods are cruel.” He rose from his seat and stood in front of her with a sober face. “Jon grew up surrounded by their misery. It isn’t hard to figure why he is so desperate to settle things between you. You sound like a willful creature, but if I may say...The Prince truly cares for you and I guess you have a soft spot for him as well. Whatever happened for you to feel compelled to hurt him or even to prove a point...You should consider that the only one who will truly get hurt in this is you.”

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

When the trials were over the four men stood in front of him guilty of treason. Tyrion had been terribly efficient in finding evidence, without bringing Arya’s name back to the accusations.

Benjen had been reporting every move she made and since that night Arya’s time was spent mostly at the godswood or with her mother and brother. She was a clever woman after all.

She stood by his side once the sentences were pronounced without knowing that he had offered advantageous deals to both Karstark and Umber for pledging their loyalties. Losing a few acres of land was better than losing their heads or taking the black. For Bolton and his bastard, a deal was impossible.

Arya didn’t say a word about the prisoners or the trials. He asked her to wear the Targaryen colors during those days and she didn’t even try to protest. Arya lowered her head and obeyed, probably in fear that he might change his mind in which concerned her involvement with the separatists.

When it was time to call from their heads, Jon had her bringing him Lord Stark’s great sword. Arya’s face was sober and cold. She looked like a magnificent statue. His queen made of ice, snow and steel.

Karstark and Umber fell to their knees in front of the Prince and his wife, begging for forgiveness in a pitiful theater, exactly as Jon had commanded them to.

“I am no monster and men without heads have no use to me or the crown.” Jon declared in front of a small audience while holding the sword. “If your repentance is true and your are willing to let go of this folly, I’ll have your penalties changed. The crown will have three acres of your lands or their price in silver and gold. The money shall be used to built the new storage houses.”

Their agreements came as Jon expected. Lord Stark seemed relived for seeing two of his most important banners spared of a traitors death. The commoners watching the trial cheered and hailed the Prince Regent’s generosity and mercy. The sound of it was sweet. It almost felt like he was hearing Viserys’ dying breath.

When Ramsay Bolton was brought to face his penalty, the man seemed to be resigned with his fate but there was no trace of shame or repentance in his pale blue eyes. Jon looked at him carefully and tried to remember anything about that house and their quarrelsome history. Every great house had to deal with men like that from time to time. A pretender just waiting for the right time to attack.

“Your last words.” Jon said to him without any sort of feeling but distaste for what he was about to do.

“I don’t fear a man that hides behind a woman’s skirt to keep his crown.” He whispered to Jon with poisonous sarcasm. “Long live the King.”

“Longer than you for sure.” The Prince replied in a voice as cold as ice.

Two guards forced Bolton’s down so his head laid on the block. Jon gave Arya one last look before lifting the blade just to make sure she wouldn’t turn her eyes away.

It was swift. The blade cut through flesh, tendons and bones as if they were butter. A splash of blood tainted Jon’s face and Bolton’s head rolled through the floor as his lifeless body slid to the side clumsily.

The bastard came next, no better than his father with his pale blue eyes and cruel smile, but instead of resignation, his gaze showed nothing but defiance.

“Your last words.” Jon commanded while anger boiled in his guts.

“A coward...” He said to Jon before looking to Arya with cruel eyes. “And the whore. What a match.”

Jon’s rage was such that he barely registered when the bastard’s head was laid on the block. He was blind for a moment and to kill that man was the only thing that matter. Jon had seen in his eyes the same gleam he had seen in Viserys’ most of his life. “ _You don’t want to wake the dragon, do you? I am the dragon...You are just a bastard.”_ He kept listening to Viserys’ voice. Those words had hunted him for years.

The Prince threw the bloody blade to the floor and looked at the crown. The message had been delivered. He would be fair and generous to those who prove to be loyal, but he was no coward.

“The dragon is awaken.” He whispered to himself and he tried to even his breath. “And he has wolf’s blood in his veins.” That sounded like a lie.

He walked away from that foul place. He needed quietness and peace for a change. A moment to digest what he had done and to get used to the idea that, if he was to be king one day, decisions wouldn’t get any easier.

Jon wondered if he still had friends inside the castle. Bran was friendly enough, but would he ever listen to the Prince’s panicked voice? It was the first he had blood in his hands and Jon felt disgusted with himself. Benjen told him to do it on his own if he wanted the North to respect him. Jon obeyed without realizing what it meant.

He was no dragon and no wolf. He was just a boy trying to prove himself a man when he wasn’t. He was a coward. He wasn’t Rhaegar’s son. He wasn’t suited to be either Prince Regent or King, not when he couldn’t stomach the gruesome aspects of power. For a second Jon wished to be nothing but a hunter, or a fisherman. He wanted to be no one even if just for a day.

Jon felt his head spinning, his hands sweating and his heart beating as if it was about to explode. When he opened his eyes after minutes walking randomly through the grounds, Jon found himself standing in the middle of the godswood.

It felt like his mother had guided his steps so he would go straightly to the only place inside that alien land that seemed to bare a trace of Lyanna’s existence. Jon saw the white tree with its scary face and for a moment he felt his mother standing by his side.

He thought he had no more tears to cry. He was wrong.

Jon sat under the heart tree and rested his head against his trunk as he cried quietly. He was done with denial. He was what he was. Rhaegar’s son, motherless, friendless and damned. A man condemned to live a life – however long it might be — that was not his own. A life devoted to serve an impossible purpose, but he was already breaking under the weight of it.

The Prince couldn’t say how long he stayed there, but it was already dark when he saw a light coming his way.

Her hair was loose and falling over her shoulders like a dark cascade. Her dress made her look more like a servant than a princess, although her cloak was a fine one. Arya carried a lantern with her and Jon could see her breath turning to smoke in the cold night air.

“Go away.” He said bitterly. The only thing he couldn’t stand was to look at her at that moment. Not when her treason was still so painful and he felt so week. If Arya saw him like that, she would know for sure that her husband was nothing but a pitiful man and she would use it to her own benefit forever. “I want to be alone.”

“I’ll let you alone if you agree to come back to the castle.” She said in a worried tone. “You’ll freeze here.”

“You would be pleased if I did. You would be free from me.” He was angry still; with her, his tittle and his fate. He wanted something that was at least slightly familiar. Something that would get him away from his misery.

Arya ignored his orders as she usually did. She walked toward him and put the lantern down to kneel in front of him.

“You are insufferable when you start talking like this.” She said in a sober and concerned tone. “There’s no pleasure in vengeance and death. It only serves to break us piece by piece. Believe it or not...I don’t want you to die. I don’t want any harm to reach you.”

“And yet the most dangerous knife is that held by someone we love.” He answered desolated. “I hope you understand what I did today. Burning a letter doesn’t change the feeling behind the words, but I hope you to understand that if you keep supporting this ridiculous idea I...”

“Why did you say that you trust me then? You could have punished me. I expected it to happen. Why did you let the matter die and pretended to believe me when you have suspected of my involvement from the start?” Arya cut him in a low tone. It was almost a whisper.

“Because I can’t live a life without allies or friends. I need you to hold the North. With evidence against your name I would be forced to punish you. Many would see it as a humiliation to the North and if I let you go unpunished I would be seen as a week ruler. Either way I’m damned.” He said and for a moment he felt a bit of relief. “I just didn’t know what to do when I had that letter in my hands. How to justify it or how to deal with you after having prof that you have been plotting against me all this time.”

“It was not about you.” Arya replied as she sat by his side. “The sound of it was appealing. A sweet dream of justice and plenty. I thought it to be the best thing for my people and I was already involved before we met in King’s Landing. It was something I shared with Robb and when he died...To give it up felt a bit like betraying his memory, even if Robb had abandoned the idea once he became your friend. Maybe a part of me wanted to blame you for his death, even if I know you to be blameless. I wanted to hold to the cause in hope it would get me through the day and make me forget the pain.”

“Like I wanted to blame you for all this anger I carry.” He said at last. “I spent a year thinking about how it would be when we were finally together. I wanted the comfort of my friend and you wouldn’t talk to me. I can’t change the things that happened. I can’t change my mistakes or yours and now I wonder if we will ever be happy with this arrangement.”

“You had never killed before, had you?” Arya asked with a hint of pity and that was something he couldn’t stand.

“No. Benjen warned me I should do it myself to honor the old ways.” He confessed in shame. What sort of ruler was he?

“It was the first time I had to witness a beheading. I felt nauseous.” She said in an attempt of showing sympathy. “Thank you for sparing Umber and Karstark.” Arya said humbly. “They are good men. They will follow you to the end of the world for what you did today. In fact, the whole North will.”

“What about you?” Jon asked. “I killed today so you wouldn’t have your name tainted with accusations treason. We already had a very similar conversation before, but things changed. Will you follow me or we will live in war forever? What will take for you to see me as a friend? What’s the price of your loyalty?”

“As long as you take care of my people, I won’t act against you. I also know you won’t believe me for a long while so...Punish me as you see fit, but when my punishment is over we won’t speak of separatism or betrayals ever again.”

“I can’t do this if you are not truly repentant for your actions. No matter the punishment, it will be pointless if you don’t forget about this separatist notion.” He answered bitterly. “You don’t think what you did to be wrong or dangerous to you and your family. You may agree that you have no chance of winning, but you still think your cause to be fair.”

“As I said, I thought it to be the best for my people. I won’t apologize for it, but I will apologize for acting behind your back and for hurting you. I am truly sorry. Nothing you did to me can justify my actions. We were friends once and suddenly I was determinate to make you my enemy.”

“It’s good enough for me.” He said as he felt exhausted. “You are under house-arrest. You won’t leave the castle on your own and you won’t talk with anyone from the outside. You’ll write no letters and you’ll attend only the events I allow.”

“Nothing I haven’t been doing already.” Arya replied with annoyance in her voice. “For how long?”

“Until you give birth to our first child or I decide to remove your penalty. Whatever happens first.” He said as a matter of fact. “Does it seems fair to you?”

“Given the fact that you could have my head for it...I guess this is the best scenario I will get.” Arya agreed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll like it. Reviews are highly appreciated.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll like it an reviews are appreciated as usual.

Winterfell slowly disappeared in the horizon and Arya found it impossible to not look back at her home with sadness and early longing. _I’ll never see it again. That’s no longer my house and I’m on my own._ The thought alone was heartbreaking, but accepting that she didn’t belong in the North anymore was even harder.

Her mother and father hugged her goodbye and wished her well. Bran promised he would visit soon to check on her, something Jon seemed happy to agree with. Master Luwin gave her a few books on northern history so she would forget her land. The old man was trying hard to contain his tears, something other servants didn’t even tried to do. It had taken her a lifetime to see the obvious. Arya Stark was loved.

The journey to King’s Landing would be a long and uncomfortable one. A time for her to think, wonder and plan what she would do with her new life and all the things that came attached to it. Even on the King’s Road, Jon made sure she would still be kept heavily guarded and with limited privileges.

The Prince had a carriage prepared for her and in practical terms it was a very comfortable prison wagon. It was claustrophobic and tiresome to look at the same cushions and blankets for hours, while Jon and his man rode their horses freely. Even Lord Lannister could ride a horse with his especial saddle while Arya had to be kept locked up inside that hideous box.

Well...It was still better than losing her head and at least she could talk to the guards and soldiers that approached her window. At night, when camp was raised, she was allowed to walk a bit. It was usually Benjen to keep her company, but at times Jon would take the duty himself. Those were the most odd and also the most pleasant moments of her miserable journey.

They didn’t talk much when they walked together. The silence felt like a punishment too, but Jon never mentioned her misconducts again, nor looked at her with accusing eyes. Under the layers of fur, fabrics and jewels, Jon was – as Benjen said – a gentle and kind boy that no idea of what he was doing. Arya agreed that it was probably more than she deserved for her actions. Forgiven or not, she would remember her treason forever, while Jon remained polite enough to pretend that he never knew of her involvement with the cause.

During the night she would sleep alone in her own tent. Arya had yet to figure if that was meant to be a privilege or yet another aspect of her punishment. She was used to a crowded house and to her family’s constant companion. To be left alone for so long was slowly breaking her spirit and she often wished for Jon’s company even if it was just to hear him complaining about the weather.

His refusal to either visit her tent or summon her to his pavilion was also against her best interests. If he wouldn’t share her bed, then how could she give him a child and have her freedom restored? Soon there would be talk among the guards and Arya hated to be the subject of gossip. The fact that her blood came a couple of days after their departure didn’t help either. After a week she started to wonder if Jon would replace her for a mistress, or if he would try to find a second wife to marry for love. Her worries were hers alone and Arya refused to speak of them out loud.

They were almost reaching the Neck when Jon allowed Lord Tyrion to travel in the carriage with the Princess for a couple of days. The road was difficult to the man and after so many days on horseback his legs and back were hurting terribly. That had been a blessing to her. Arya could hardly wish for a better company than the Hand’s.

They played cards and Lord Tyrion – who loved nothing better than a good book – would read to her the books Maester Luwin gave her and debate for hours anything he found to be interesting about the North. Arya was more than happy to indulge his curiosity and that helped the time to pass.

Tyrion wasn’t the only curious creature inside the carriage. Arya had wondered for days why he accepted to serve as Hand to Rhaegar, when the King had sentenced Jaime Lannister to death almost twenty years ago. Eventually Arya’s curiosity won.

“May I ask you something, my Lord?” She asked before Tyrion passed her a flask full with Dornish Red.

“I live to serve you, Your Highness. Ask whatever you want and I’ll give my honest answer.” He said and by that time he was already drunk.

“Why did you accept to be Hand?” She asked right away. “I thought there was too much bitterness between Targaryens and Lannisters since...”

“My brother’s execution?” He completed with a sarcastic grin. Arya felt suddenly embarrassed for her boldness. “Maybe because I understand Rhaegar’s actions better than most.” He said. “Jaime’s death wasn’t fair and I believe the King knows it, but...Regicide is regicide and Rhaegar’s hands were tied in this. Never mind the Mad King set a room with two children and a sleeping woman on fire in a fit. Never mind he planned to set the whole city on fire too. Aerys was still King and heroism doesn’t goes well with regicide. I loved my brother dearly, but I understood pretty soon that at times not even a King can afford doing whatever he wants. Even if Rhaegar wanted to pardon him this act of mercy could be seen as complicity and Viserys would sound like a good option to many unhappy lords.”

“I’ve always knew wearing a crown was more of a curse than a blessing. Now I’m starting to understand the dimension of it.” Arya said while looking through the window. “I wonder why I even dared to look at Jon’s way. I should have looked to a knight or even a blacksmith instead. My life would surely be easier.”

“We are what we are and I believe the Prince chose well.” Tyrion smiled at her fondly. “You have a rare virtue. You look at a man and see him for what he is, not for what the world tells you about him. I believe you saw in His Highness someone worthy of your affections. It’s a pity that love tends to be way too messy at times.”

“Have you ever fell in love, my Lord?” Arya asked gently. She like the man and it was a cruel fate for such a great mind and peculiar spirit to be rejected and despised by his looks.

“I fall in love at least once a week.” He tried to make it sound like a joke, but it was a sad one. “The truth? I’ve been in love since I was fifteen. In love with the same woman. My first and, if the gods are good, my last.”

“I thought you were a regular costumer of brothels.” Arya pointed with sarcasm and Tyrion laughed at it.

“Well...I am. Regular because of her.” He said. “Tysha is my joy, but fate can be very cruel especially if you are born a dwarf and your father is Tywin Lannister. I met Tysha at the brothel. One of my uncles took me there to turn me into a man, or so he said. I thought he just wanted to laugh at me. I picked her because she looked as scared and terrified as I was. I did nothing to her that night. I just asked her to lie and tell everyone I was the best she ever had... What an immoral thing to say to a Princess. I’m sorry, Your Highness. I believe I had too much wine.”

“Oh please. I’ve spent most of my life listening to the most obscene tales drunken knights would tell at my father’s table. Besides...I’m done with this hideous shaking box and your stories are always very interesting. Do tell me about this woman you love.”

“Very well...I paid Tysha a golden dragon for the lie and I told her she didn’t need to be afraid of me.” Tyrion suddenly had a warm smile. “We talked, we drank and we laughed for hours. I asked her why she lived in a place like that and she said she had no choice. She had been dishonored by bandits. She got with child and her family cast her out. The child died of a fever at a young age. Working at that brothel was the only way for her to survive. I asked what she would have been if her fortune had been any different. A wife and a mother, she said with the saddest smile I’ve ever seen. After that I would go back to the brothel every night and ask for her. We became friends until the night we became lovers. My father would have killed her if he knew I was in love with a whore, so I payed the owner for him to spread the rumor that I had a different woman every night. At times more than one. That kept my father away from Tysha until his death a few months later.”

“What happened to her?” Arya asked kindly.

“She is still there, but now she owns the place and I am the only one who shares her bed. If I could do whatever I pleased, I would have taken her to Casterly Rock and called her Lady Lannister, but what King would ever agree to that? My uncles certainly wouldn’t and if I had done it, one of them would be ruling the West in my place. See? Love can be terribly messy.”

“I hope you’ll manage to make her Lady Lannister some day and the two of you will have many children.” Arya smiled at him before finishing the wine inside the flask.

“Oh...We have children.”Tyrion said. “The whole West knows of my bastards. Hugor and Joanna Hills, my two little devils. Tysha likes to say that they took after me in which concerns their wicked minds, but fortunately they inherited her beauty.”

“I would like to know them. I would like to know your Tysha too.” Arya said to him with honesty.

“This is what I meant. You are willing to see them as human beings and not as a whore and her bastards. Your heart is generous and you have a clever mind, Your Highness. Let us hope you will use them in something that won’t lead to rebellion.”

Arya lowered her head and avoided Tyrion’s gaze for a while. To even speak of that was embarrassing. In a way Jon had managed to convince her that if they didn’t speak of it at all the matter would disappear.

“Your reasons were noble.” He tried to comfort her somehow. “Only the means were equivocated. You will have chance to do great things for your people. I’m sure of that.”

“If you were a good Hand, you would advise Jon to have my head.” Arya replied. “I’m glad that you are not.”

“I am a good Hand and this is exactly why I approved of his decision. Anyway, your involvement could hardly be qualified as expressive or even as support to the cause. You were very clever in your communication and Jon was very clever to recognize in your intelligence something to be valued. It’s only a matter of time until the two of you realize that you are stronger together.”

That night, when they raised camp and Arya was allowed to walk for a while, she felt somewhat happy. To have company and distraction had been a balm to her gloomy humor. She even chatted with Benjen about the things he liked the most in King’s Landing. After an hour or so Jon appeared to dismiss Benjen of his duties as guard.

There was an awkward silence between them for a while but they walked toward a stream where Arya could get some refreshment.

She washed her hands and face while Jon looked at her with contemplative eyes.

“It seems you got yourself a fierce defender.” Jon said with a hint of humor. “Lord Tyrion speaks highly of your wits and sense of humor.”

“Well...I could do the same about his wits and sense of humor. He is a very interesting man and he certainly knows how to tell a good story.” Arya replied as a matter of fact.

“I told him he was absolutely right to think so. Your wits and sense of humor were the first things I noticed in you.” Jon tried to sound gallant and charming, but he was as good at it as Arya was at needlework.

“Liar.” She replied with a smirk. “It was my bosom.”

“Perhaps...” He blushed a bit and Arya could barely believe him to be the same man she had married. “But I’m really fond of your cleverness and humor as well.”

“What is it that you want, Jon?” She finally asked him. “Are you bored of the road already?”

“I just wanted to put an end to this awkwardness between us.” The Prince answered calmly while walking towards her with unsure steps. “I suppose we can’t stay like this forever.”

“You don’t have to.” Arya said. “I’m being punished, remember?”

“I guess house-arrest should be enough punishment. Keeping things this way...It sounds like a punishment for both of us.” Jon’s voice was soft and Arya allowed herself to see in him the boy she had kissed back in King’s Landing. “Lord Lannister wouldn’t stop talking about your conversations and I couldn’t help feeling a bit jealous that he found it so easy to stay in your presence and simply share a good time with you while I can barely talk to you and every night I go back to a lonely tent.”

“You could have summoned me. It’s not as if you have to ask permission to do so.” Arya’s voice was sarcastic, but also playful. Her humor had improved a great deal indeed.

“I thought my presence wouldn’t be appreciated and I’m still honoring my promise to you. I also thought that...Both of us could do with some time to figure what to do next.” He explained.

“Did you figured it?” Arya walked towards her so they could see eye to eye.

“Not really.” He said. “With all of your cleverness...I wondered if you would help me to find the answer.”

“Maybe you should come to my tent so we can think about solutions.” Arya suggested. “I could do with some company every now and then. Would you like that?”

“I would like it very much.” Jon answered tenderly while caressing her face as if they were the same children exchanging secret kisses before a joust.

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

After several weeks on horseback and awkward conversations, Jon found himself starving of company. The talking of soldiers and guards was getting boring and repetitive as the days passed and whenever he tried to approach Arya for nothing but a silly bit of conversation there was always that heavy tension between them.

The Prince was willing to forgive and forget, but the punishment – as Arya had agreed – was also necessary for him to be sure of her sincerity. It didn’t make their lives any easier and Jon doubted she would welcome him into her tent at night as if nothing had happened.

Those brief and blissful days spent inside their rooms at Winterfell had turned loneliness into something unbearable. He missed her presence by his side, even if nothing was to happen between them. He missed her warmth and gentle breath as she slept or how she searched for him whenever she was cold at night. Jon was no longer sure if what he wanted was his friend or his lover, but he knew he wanted to have Arya near.

Lord Tyrion was positively seduced by Arya’s charisma. No matter that he knew the Princess to be involved with separatist. To Tyrion, Arya was still a woman worthy of praises and admiration. The new Hands was sure that she would make a fine Queen one day.

Jon couldn’t disagree with that. He had recognized those qualities in her without much effort. Every man and woman in the North loved Arya fiercely. From nobleman to lowborn, she managed to enchant everyone around her with little more than genuine concern and kindness that knew no ranks or fortunes.

Karstark had said nothing about her when Jon released him from prison, but Umber made sure to stay a while longer just to vouch for the Princess naivety and innocence. “She is just a valiant girl with a generous heart. She is blameless in this mess. I know I have no right to ask for anymore than what I’ve already gotten, but...Don’t be harsh with her. The lady deserves nothing but happiness. Blame the crusty old men, but not her.” Umber had said and Jon realized that although she lacked the formal power, Arya had the love of many and that was more than any king could wish for.

Jon was no better than those man and certainly not immune to her charms. Not a beauty to die for, but a woman of rare and valuable qualities. A woman with eyes meant to bring empires down and a smile that would lead men to do the most brave and stupid things.

When he went to her tent that night, it felt like their wedding night all over again. Jon was suddenly anxious and uncertain of what to do or expect. He was aware that she was not with child yet, according to a few female servants that came from Winterfell to serve her until they reached the capitol. Her blood had came and that meant it was in Arya’s best interests to have him back in her bed. Jon tried to not think about it. He didn’t need another excuse to spoil the little pleasures he had in life.

The Prince entered the tend with cautious steps. Arya was sitting by the fire, with her hair loosely braided and wearing a nightgown and a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. There was wine and a light supper waiting for them.

“I thought you had changed your mind.” She said once he entered the tent.

“I prefer to have company during my meals and there’s only so much I can deal with Benjen or any other soldier.” Jon said while removing his cloak and gloves. “Did I make you wait for too long?”

“Not much.” Arya answered before serving two cups of wine and handling one to him. “I was hungry though. If you made me wait any longer there would be nothing left for you to eat.”

“You could have eaten. I don’t want my wife half starved and sickly thin.” He took his seat in front of her and had a generous gulp from his cup.

“I’m always hungry. It has been like this since I was nine, but no matter how much I ate I would never grow much.” Arya said with a warm smile. “Mother used to say that I looked like a scarecrow, with my messy hair and thin arms.”

“I’ve never seen a scarecrow so pretty.” Jon answered before pulling out his dagger to cut portions of the roasted piglet and serve her. “There’s no point in keeping our bellies empty now. The smell is good and I bet it tastes even better.”

“So it seems.” Arya accepted the plate from his hands. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” That moment felt intimate and sweet but not in the way he had expected when he entered her tent. They weren’t even touching each other, but for the first time since their reunion there was no resistance or walls between them. They could simply talk and see each other for what they were.

Indeed the food was delicious, but not as much as the sound of her laughs when he shared with her an anecdote or another. Arya never failed to say that his complains about the cold were extremely exaggerated and mock him for the excess of furs he wrapped himself with.

As the conversation and the supper progressed, Jon removed pieces of his armor until he was left with only his shirt, trousers and cloak. The wine made his head lighter and his own laugh would come out of his throat easier. Jon tried to remember when was the last time he had drank that much, or even laughed that much but nothing came to his mind.

“Did you know Lord Tyrion has children?” Arya asked at some point when she was telling him about all of the clever things Lord Lannister could talk about. “I had no idea.”

“I believe I read something about it in one of the reports, but I didn’t give much importance to it at the time.” Jon answered her. “I’ve never understood why he didn’t marry. I know things must be difficult for him given his looks and all, but he is still the Lord of Casterly Rock and apparently capable of siring children. I don’t get why his nephew is still his heir when he could have legitimate children.”

“I know.” Arya said, probably as drunk as he was. “He didn’t marry because he loves a woman he can not have and chose to stay faithful to her.”

“Who is this woman? One of his harlots?” Jon questioned with sarcasm as he felt his hear swoon at Arya’s every smile.

“What difference it makes? She is still his lady love. If you couldn’t find out who she is in your reports, I won’t be the one making your life easier by telling you.” Arya replied with a teasing voice and defiant face.

“As if you would ever make my life any easier. You like to keep me running in circles like a chicken without head.” He said before pouring himself another cup of wine. “Is it true though? He is faithful to this mysterious woman?” Arya nod in agreement.

“The story is very sad. I don’t think it would be right to share the details of it. He is a very smart man. You were right to have him as Hand.” Arya raised her cup clumsily in a toast. “I salute you for this.”

“Well, thank you. I’m glad to know you approve of my choice. I doubt it will be something that will happen often between us.” He grinned at her like an idiot.

“I couldn’t understand why you picked him until I had the chance to talk to the man.” She ignored her provocation. “I mean...With the war and all.”

“Tywin Lannister was somewhat difficult to handle, according to Father.” He answered her as a matter of fact. “Tyrion, on the other hand, have always been easier to deal with since he became Warden of the West. He didn’t have much time to waste on revenge or anything like this, I think. People didn’t want him to inherit his father’s seat, but he did just fine consolidating his rule and maneuvering his uncles. Sounded like a good choice for me.”

“I guess you can relate with him in this.” Arya looked at him with sudden caution.

“You are clever and perceptive like the devil.” Jon raised his cup. “I salute you for this.”

“Is Viserys causing trouble?” Arya finally asked.

“Not now, but he will.” Jon’s voice changed at the sound of Viserys’ name. “He dared to threat me and Visenya during Mother’s funeral. He actually went there to celebrate her death as if it was his own coronation.”

“Dorne shouldn’t be a might opponent. He is just a cruel man that can be disposed of if needed.” Arya suggested with cold pragmatism. “You shouldn’t give him so much importance. He is nothing.”

“Your coldness in consider murder so easily is both terrifying and arousing, but it’s not that simple. It’s not only Dorne. I’m not sure where the Storm Lands stand in this.” Jon completed. “Daenerys have always been friendly to me, but I can’t say much about Renly’s inclinations. Besides...They have no children yet. I don’t know if he would consider having the marriage annulled. That’s why I’m not certain of how expressive Daenerys influence can be if it comes to conflict. Will she back up her brother or her nephew anyway? I don’t know the answer for that.”

“My sister is at the Reach, my brother in Riverrun, my cousin in the Vale and now you have the Warden of the West as your Hand.” Arya looked at him with incredulity and also...Pride. “You wicked devil. You are trying to alienate him, aren’t you?”

“I hate it when you sound this surprised by the fact that I have a brain.” Jon rolled his eyes. “It’s rather insulting.”

“It shouldn’t be. I’m honestly impressed.” Arya answered with a smirk. “I’m glad to know that if we have children their father won’t be a dummy in the hands of Lords.”

“Madam...You think very little of me. The only one capable of making a dummy out of this Prince is you. That’s your privilege granted by marriage and you are terrific at it.”

At that Arya laughed openly. What a joy it was to see her like that, so receptive and carefree in his presence. She might never come to love him, but at least they could be friends.

“You have a terrible idea of me as well.” Arya ginned at him. “I’m not half as dangerous as you think and I take no pleasure in fooling you.”

“Liar.” Jon smirked, replying to her allegation in the same way she did by the river. “You love nothing more than to prove me to be a stupid fool, but I also enjoy proving you wrong whenever I can. Makes things interesting between us. You are not at all harmless or hopeless either. You were meant to rule over men’s hearts and bring empires down.”

“You make me sound like a merciless goddess.” Arya rose from her seat and walked towards him with the moves of a cat. “I’m too plain and too wild to be such a thing.”

“Wild? Yes. Plain? Never. I understand that danger often hides in unlikely places and persons.” Jon took her hand in his and kissed the back of it. “You are a puzzle, a mystery I’ll never solve, but gods...I’ll surely love to try.”

“You do that.” Arya said as she sat on his lap with her arms around his neck. “My pleasures have a simpler nature.”

“What would it be?” He asked while caressing her face.

“I like cunning intelligence seasoned with kindness.” She said. “Simple to understand, but difficult to find. You played this game to your own benefit from the moment we first met. I was mad at you for trapping me in your web.” Her hand slid down his body and unlaced his trouser. Arya freed his cock from all restrictions and touched him without an ounce of modesty. Jon threw his head back as his breath became labored. Arya kissed his neck tenderly. “What a funny thing...To be seduced by ties, ropes and clever moves in a _cyvasse_ board. All this wrapped in one handsome face.”

He silenced her with a hungry kiss while stopping her hand from moving. Slowly Arya found a way to straddle him without breaking their kiss. When she finally found the right position Jon felt his cock being engulfed by the maddening and tight warmth of her. His hands were straight to the small of her back, forcing her body down and making Arya gasp.

“Gods!” He said as her hips started to move as if she was riding her favorite horse. Jon pressed her body tightly to his and kissed her neck.

Arya claimed his lips in a clear display of dominance. Out of that tent he was Prince Regent and King-to-be, but for the night – in the silence and privacy – Arya was the true ruler and he never considered that being ruled by her could be so powerfully satisfying.

Her eyes captured Jon’s and Arya placed her forehead against his as she moved. In a way they moment felt like a metaphor for their own messy relationship. After fights for dominance moved by arrogance and stubbornness, they could finally see eye to eye. They finally had a common goal traduced in the moment by that promised pleasure.


	17. Chapter 17

The day they arrived at King’s Landing, Jon allowed her to ride by his side and her clothes had been carefully picked for the event. Arya was to wear gray and white along with a few of Lyanna’s favorite jewels. Her hair all tamed in a complex braid that fell to her back and a circlet made of bronze and silver around her head – a token of her northern inheritance.

Jon rode by her side his gray stallion. His clothes made of finer a lighter material than those he wore back at Winterfell. His color of choice was black as usual, but the Targaryen Dragon stood proudly in his doublet and cloak. His circlet was made of silver and gold. The chain around his neck announcing that he was the Royal Authority made flesh for as long as the King remained unwell to rule.

They entered the city in a mighty parade while the people cheered their Prince’s arrival with his new bride. Benjen had warned her that Jon was well-loved in King’s Landing, but little known by the other kingdoms. That was a polite way to say that Arya would have to help him with that and the first step was showing herself as a dignified Princess.

As they rode through the narrow streets women and children waved at them from their windows. Some would throw petals of roses and other wild flowers to them. Arya smiled at them and waved in return as she would have done to anyone who approached her with kindness back in her homeland.

The Prince rode with a proud and magnificent posture. His head held high and an almost smile played on his lips. That man would be great one day. Arya would make sure of it.

At the Red Keep they were received by some of the most prominent names of Rhaegar’s court, including Jon Arryn, who was waiting for the new Hand to arrive so he could take his leave. Even though smiles surrounded them, Arya couldn’t help wondering if any of those was a friendly one.

Jon worried about Viserys and what the vicious snake might do. Had she been married to someone else, or had she stayed a maid in the North, those thoughts would be foreign to her. Jon had made her a Princess though. If the King’s brother ever dared to raise arms against Jon, she would fight him tooth and nails to show the pretender dragon what a she-wolf was made of.

_I’m no longer a child. I’m what I am; a daughter of the North, a Princess by marriage, a wolf by blood. Let Viserys come. I’ll have my teeth and claws ready for him._

“I should go to the King.” Jon said vaguely when the courtiers gave them a bit of space. “I’m not sure what to expect of my Father’s condition.”

“Go to him than.” Arya replied in agreement. “I won’t run away in the mean time.” Jon smirked at her joke.

“I would like you to come along. You must be formally presented to the King as his new daughter-in-law.” His voice was sober and concerned. No matter the place, Jon would always carry with him the weight of the world in his shoulder. If the King was dead, Jon would at least have the autonomy of acting by his own will and understanding. Rhaegar was more of a dead weight than any help to the Prince’s concerns.

“As you wish.” Arya agreed for that was all what she could do. “What about the Princess? Won’t you go to her?”

“As soon as I’m done with Father. Gods...I want to see her so much.” He said with fondness. “We must go now.” Arya nod before Jon could conduct her all the way to the Royal Solar.

The red stones reminded her of simpler days spent with games, hunts and banquets. Only a year ago they had been children running through those corridors and now there was a sense of ceremonial reverence around them.

At least there was some relive in knowing that Rhaegar was no longer locked up inside his chambers. The King walked around the castle, but never for long. He spent most of his days at the solar or his private library. Once a day he checked the Princess and spent some time with the infant according to the servants.

Arya felt uneasy to meat the King. Even during her first visit to the capitol Rhaegar had been someone to be avoided and feared. All the things her father had said about the King kept coming to her mind and the fact that Jon had his own complains about the man didn’t help to sooth her worries.

She tried to hold to the idea that Rhaegar was a grieving man and deserved at least a bit of sympathy. They all had something in common. They were all connected by Lyanna one way or another.

When they entered the solar, Rhaegar was sitting by the fire with a book in hand. His beard had grown and his hair seemed dirty and oily. He had dark circles around his eyes and looked like an old man. Arya didn’t remember much about the King, but he was a handsome man in his early forties, but that creature was more of a shadow than a man.

“Father, I’m home.” Jon announced with caution and Rhaegar turned to face him.

“You look more like a northerner than Eddard himself.” Rhaegar said and Arya couldn’t tell if that was meant as a compliment or an insult. “Welcome back, Jon. We’ve missed you.”

Those words seemed to light up a youthful happiness inside her husband as if Jon had never heard them before. For a moment Arya was sad.

“The separatists were dealt with. The North is once more in friendly terms with the crown.” Jon declared.

“I expected no less from you.” The King’s voice was suddenly warm and affectionate. “I understand you also brought with you a new member to this family. Won’t you present me your bride?”

Arya gave a step forward so the King could see her. Rhaegar’s eyes were suddenly taken by tears.

“I present you my wife, Arya Stark of Winterfell.” Jon said soberly.

“It’s an honor, Your Grace.” Arya greeted the King as it was expected.

“What a cruel trick of merciless gods.” The King said. “I remember that you looked like Lyanna, but in one year this resemblance grew even more. You look like a ghost of my happy days, my Lady.”

“I’m sorry about your lost. The Queen was a good woman and I was very much fond of my aunt.” She tried to sound respectful even if the whole event seemed odd.

“As she was fond of you.” The King declared. “She wouldn’t have her son married to anyone else but one of her own kin and the gods know you were her favorite. I can see why. Lyanna knew that Jon inherited more of me than his looks give him credit for. We are easily taken by a pair of pretty wolfish eyes.”

Jon’s jawline got tense and the King’s compliment. Whatever was happening, Jon wasn’t pleased at all. In fact Rhaegar’s words were rather inappropriate. King or not, she was still a married woman and her husband stood by her side.

“I thought long and carefully about what I could give you as a wedding gift.” The King said with an absent smile. “I decided to commission a painting. A memory of this blessed union to the future generations.”

“It’s a very generous gift, Your Grace.” Arya thanked awkwardly. That wasn’t the sort of gift that would be given to a northern bride. Paintings and other objects meant to adorn one’s home were considered futile and frivolous. Furniture, animals, rolls of fabric, spices and silver goods were more appropriate and useful, but Rhaegar had a reputation of being man of artistic mind.

“How is Visenya?” Jon finally asked. That seemed to bring some happiness to the king.

“A lovely little thing. She grows by the hour and has the most tender cheeks.” The King’s voice was warm when he mentioned the little princess. At least he wasn’t completely disconnected from the child. “She learned how to smile recently. She practices often. I believe she is trying to teach me.”

“Maybe you should make an effort and learn from her.” Jon replied gently. “Mother wouldn’t like to see you like this.”

“I have no strength and no desire to live. To walk around the palace alone is proving to be worst than I thought. I hear her voice all the time. I see her everywhere...I wish the gods would take me already and spare me of this pain, but I suppose this is my own atonement for all the things I did wrong.”

“With all due respect, Your Grace.” Arya bluntly said. “You have a kingdom and a family that depend on you. To wish for your untimely death, or to confine yourself to theses rooms isn’t an act of love to the Queen. It’s a selfish act and you are hurting people by being distant and indifferent. I understand your pain and grief, but I believe that my aunt would rather have you living a day at a time and carrying for people around you.” Jon looked at her as if she had grew a second head and he was positively mortified at her reckless speech. Whatever Rhaegar thought about her words, he didn’t seem to be offended by them.

“You are a brave one, aren’t you? Blunt too.” The King said, but there was no anger in his voice, only a sad acceptance. “It takes a lot of courage to lecture the King. Lyanna might have said something very similar, but you talk in a very pragmatic way.”

“Life at Winterfell is always pragmatic. Winter leaves no time for us to indulge thoughts of melancholy or even idle pleasures. Winter always come and we must always be prepared to care for the living.” Arya didn’t back up or even considered apologizing. “We feel every lost deeply, but life must go on.”

“With all your bravery and pragmatism, what would you have me do? Rule again? Don’t you fear that I might become mad like my sire before me?” Rhaegar questioned with curiosity.

“I think the only thing that can really drive us mad is to allow poisonous thoughts to take over our heads. Keep the head occupied and put it to the service of those who need you should be a good start.”

“It seems that you chose a terrible lady to wed.” Rhaegar said to Jon. “But you found a good counselor. One that won’t shy away from saying the things that need to be said. Her Highness has the heart of a king.” Her words surely hit a never, but Rhaegar didn’t seem inclined to do anything to fight his melancholy. “You should go.”

That was the King’s way of saying that he wanted to be alone again. When they left the room Arya had been sure that Jon would give her a lecture for talking out of turn and speak so recklessly. She regretted her boldness immediately once she remembered that she was still under house-arrest.

They walked in silence for a while until they reached the nursery. Jon hasn’t exaggerated when she said that an army of nurses had been charged with the Princess’ care. All of them bowed once the couple entered the room.

The chief nurse made sure to give him a small report on the Princess’ general condition before bringing Visenya to the Prince. Jon was not given to easy displays of happiness, but when he held the baby his face was glowing with joy.

Visenya had inherited the Targaryen silver blond hair, but her eyes were gray like Jon’s. She seemed to be a perfectly healthy baby with adorable cheeks and smile. Jon didn’t seem to know how to carry her properly nor he knew how to be comfortable with a baby in his arms, but he held her for a while and made silly voices and faces to amuse her.

Arya’s heart was suddenly warm with tender feelings and gentle happiness. Every day she would discover a side of him that would surprise her. His angry moods, his vulnerable moments, his silly jokes and the carrying man that he was. Her mother had been right. Arya was lucky in her marriage.

Jon dismissed the nurses and asked for Arya to stay with him and the child.

“What you said to the King…” Jon started and Arya prepared herself to another argument. “Thank you.” That threw her out of balance. It was an utter shock to listen and impossible to understand. “My Father needed to hear it and not in a condescending or flattering way. A bit of pragmatism would do him good at this point and I appreciate your bravery and honesty, even if it were terribly reckless of you to speak like that.”

“You are not angry at me?” Arya questioned out of incredulity.

“Not in the slightest, but again...Be careful of your words, especially to the King. He might not have a violent nature, but madness does have a place in this house. He might get offended and I wouldn’t like to see you in trouble because of it.”

“Do you think he will follow my advice?” Arya wondered.

“I doubt it, but one can hope.” Jon said. “I believe you spoke in a way that my mother would have done. Yet another thing for you to be cautious. You do remind him of Mother and I want you to be careful.”

“Are you jealous of your father?” Arya found that absurd. “Do you think I would prefer him over you?”

“No. I don’t think you would, but...Call me overzealous if you want, but it’s not comfortable to see the way he looks at you. Just be careful. I don’t want him to think that he is entitled to take liberties.”

“I will.” Arya agreed. “What about this painting thing? What will be the utility of it?” At that Jon muffled a laugh.

“You do know that not every gift has to be a practical one, don’t you?” He teased. “This is just Father being his usual self. He is very fond of mummers, musicians, painters and poets.”

“Are you fond of these things as well?”

“I am, but not half as much as he is.” Jon was in a good spirit and that was traduced in how relaxed his face was. “Theater can be very entertaining and I do love music. As for poetry...I enjoy the sound of it although I rarely understand their meaning. I’ve never posed for a paint before so it should be a new thing for both of us. What about you? Don’t you enjoy silly pass-times?”

“I like music. Father had musicians at the great hall from time to time. Sansa used to read poetry and I agree with you. I like the sound of it, but I don’t really understand. Other than that I’m not familiar with the artistic nature of the court.”

“Good. It gives me the chance of sharing your first experience with it.” His voice was kind and soft. The anger in him seemed to vanish and Arya found her heart beating faster whenever she looked at him.

“We know very little of each other, don’t we?” She questioned before touching his face with fondness.

“Indeed.” Jon kissed the palm of her hand. “Makes things funny, don’t you think? We have plenty of time to learn and discover.”

“What if we don’t like what we learn?” Arya questioned before raising her arms to get Visenya.

“At least for me this option seems quite impossible.” Jon smiled before kissing her forehead and handling the princess to Arya.

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

To be back home was a welcome feeling. Jon felt his heart lighter and a sudden joy took him all of a sudden. He still had to get used to his mother’s absence and his father’s general lack of interest for everything, but at least Visenya was a good reason for him to smile and the fact that Arya seemed to be quite fond of infants was yet another blessing.

Jon had yet to decided how Arya’s house-arrest would proceed in the Red Keep. Not that he thought it to be necessary, but even Tyrion agreed that it was for the best to keep her sentence for precaution. Arya was resigned and even receptive to the idea. She knew what was at risk and how delicate her position was in the capitol and it hadn’t been enough to prevent her from lecturing the King.

He had to admit that boldness, bravery and a bit of a death wish were natural to here. Arya would have to learn how to used those qualities to her advantage and safety in the Red Keep and not to vex his father like that. Well...Jon couldn’t say that his father didn’t deserve it, but yet...Rhaegar was still King and nobody had the power to tell him what to do now that the Queen was dead.

There was also the fact that Arya was nearly a younger copy of his mother according to nearly everyone who knew the Queen in her youth. Not that it was a bad thing, but the way the King would look at her was rather uncomfortable. It felt like his father was seeing a ghost and his wildest dream at the same time. Maybe Jon was being overzealous or simply jealous over a ridiculous thing, but still… He didn’t like it in the slightest.

There was a welcome feast in their honor and also an occasion to celebrate their marriage. A ceremony performed in the Faith of The Seven was still necessary, but their marriage had already been acknowledged by the King as lawful and valid.

Jon couldn’t say he was particularly happy to have to attend the event when he wished for nothing but his bed and a good night of sleep after weeks on horseback and tents. Arya didn’t seem any more happy than he was, but she played her part. She was polite, charming and absolutely charismatic. Once they had filled their bellies with food and wine, Arya turned to him with the eyes of a beggar.

“Can you please find us an excuse to leave? I’m exhausted and my cheeks are hurting after smiling for so long.” She said with humor and a bit of exaggeration.

“Nothing would make me happier. I tired and I just want a good night of sleep and a proper bed.” He agreed before raising from his seat.

The whole room looked at him while Jon offered his hand to help Arya to her feet. Since Rhaegar wasn’t present at the occasion, Jon had the highest rank in the room. If he was done eating, every one else was done. If he was to take his leave along with his wife, than Tyrion could play the host or call for the end of the event. At that point it wasn’t as if Jon cared about what the courtiers would think. They were probably imagining that Jon was eager to take his bride to their chambers and enjoy her company for the night so be it.

They left the room hand in hand and without giving any explanations. Arya looked at him with incredulity.

“If I knew it was so simple I would have asked you to do it earlier.” She said.

“If Father was there, we wouldn’t be able to unless he allowed us to leave. Since I am the Regent and King-in-Fact, they can’t really force me to stay if I’m not feeling inclined to. I would have stayed if you told me you were enjoying yourself, but I’m glad you asked to leave. Now they can all gossip about all the sordid things they think we will do tonight.”

“We are not doing sordid things then?” She questioned with an eyebrow raised. Well...That made him find a bit of energy he had been saving just in case.

“We can...If you feel inclined to.” He answered with a grin and Arya rolled her eyes.

“Gods! I was joking!” She laughed.

“I am not, but if you prefer to rest I will understand. It was a really tiresome day and I already want to kill half of the courtiers.”

“This is a feeling we both share. Anyway...A bit of sleep should improve my mood.” Arya said.

Once they reached the room there was a bit of silence and a question hanging in the air. Would they keep sharing a room of would they keep separate chambers as it was usual for a royal couple to do. Jon conducted her into the room in silence and Arya didn’t make those questions.

“Your chambers are adjoined to this one.” Jon explained while pointing to a huge tapestry hanging on the wall. “Behind the tapestry there’s a door that gives passage to your own apartment. It’s basically like this one. You’ll have everything that you need at your disposal. I already asked for your belongings to be placed there. My door will be open in case you need something or just want a bit of company, but you’ll have a key for your door if you want to keep me away for some reason.”

“You thought about everything didn’t you?” Arya asked while looking around. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Since you didn’t say if you wanted to keep separate chambers or not, I tried to find middle ground.” Jon replied.

“Do you want me to sleep there tonight?” Arya questioned with caution and Jon took a deep breath.

“If it were my choice to make, you would never sleep in another bed but mine.” He answered with honesty and watched Arya approach him slowly as she loosened her hair.

“I don’t want to sleep alone on my first night here.”

“You are more than welcome to stay. Nothing would please me more.”

Jon helped her to unlace her gown and remove all the layers of here clothes until Arya was left with only her chemise made of light linen. She did the same for him in return and they both went to bed.

Neither of them seemed to be really interested in sex that night. They were tired and in sore need of restful sleep. Jon caressed her face as Arya looked at him carefully. A billion different thoughts seemed to pass behind her eyes and he could only imagine how strange and foreign everything was to her. That was his home after all. It would be a while until she could consider it her home too.

“What is it that worries you?” He asked gently and lazily.

“I was thinking that you are the only familiar thing I have here.” She said. “In a way it’s cruel. Only a few weeks ago I was mad at you for many reasons and now it seems that you are my safe harbor.”

“And gladly so.” He agreed with a smile. “Whatever happens between us, I hope you’ll always see in me a friend.”

Arya kissed his mouth lightly in answer.

“Goodnight then, friend.” She said before falling asleep with her head resting on his chest.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


	18. Chapter 18

Life at King’s Lading was a dull affair, Arya soon realized. As long as her imprisonment stood, she was mostly restricted to the Royal Solar with nothing to do except to wait for Jon to come back or an eventual visit from Lord Tyrion Lannister for a match of _cyvasse._ She couldn’t write letters, although she received them with certain frequency. It was mostly Bran telling her everything about life at Winterfell or any sort of silly things. Her mother also kept writing and those were moments in which Arya found some comfort. In a life without meaning or purpose, little Visenya became to her a distraction.

Arya have always liked children and they seemed to flock around her without much effort. It was probably her own juvenile nature that allowed her to bond with infants, but Arya was also very protective by nature. Visenya was just a motherless child, with a distant father and a brother that tried to be a whole family to her at the best of his capabilities while ruling a kingdom. To Arya’s heart, that was a very tragic life for a child without a constant source of affection.

She had babysit Rickon for years until he was sent to Riverrun. She missed him and how her life used to be busy. In a way she could relate to Visenya. They were both two lonely girls in need of some family to love and care for them, relying only on Jon’s constant presence.

Arya spent most of her days in the nursery with the baby. The small army of nurses was no better than Benjen in keeping constant vigilance. Arya had every move observed, even if she truly just wanted to play with the little princess or care for her whenever Visenya cried.

Rhaegar had named Jon as the princess’ tutor so Visenya would grow up among her brother’s children. _My children_. Arya though resigned with her fate. The King have wished for Arya to be Visenya’s maternal reference. Well...Even if she didn’t like the King a single bit, nor approved of his influence over her life, taking care of Visenya wasn’t a punishment. It was a relief from her imprisonment and a source of joy.

Jon found her half sleeping with Visenya in her arms one afternoon. Arya was startled by his sudden presence and that made her alert. Jon laughed at her reaction for a while.

“I see you are getting along just fine.” His voice was full of relive and satisfaction.

“It’s good having something to do with all the time I have. She gives me a purpose at least until my punishment is over.” Arya said before raising from her seat to put Visenya back on her cradle.

“Do you think of her as part of your punishment?” Jon looked at her with a frown. How ridiculous his interpretations could be at times.

“Not at all. I enjoy spending time with her.” Arya reassured him. “I just don’t know exactly how my routine will be like once you decide to remove my penalty. For now she is my source of joy and she keeps my mind occupied.”

“I like it that you keep an eye on her when I’m busy with court. At least I know she won’t be alone nor feel abandoned.” Jon said sadly. “I’m a terrible brother to her.”

“No. You are doing the best you can with the options you have at hand.” Arya corrected him. “One day she will understand it and one day both of us will know how to handle our duties without sacrificing those we love in the process.”

“I’ll take it as your way of saying that I’m not giving you enough attention.” He smirked at her and at that Arya rolled her eyes. “I have news.”

“Good or bad?” She looked at him carefully.

“I have no idea, to be honest. Daenerys is coming to King’s Landing and the letter said she was coming on her own.” Jon said. “It’s unusual and I don’t know what to think of it.”

“You said she was friendly towards you. Maybe we should take it as a good sign and as a potential alliance against Viserys.” Arya suggested, but it was hard to make conclusions when she didn’t know Lady Baratheon except for the fact that she was Jon’s aunt.

“I think it’s more delicate than that. Viserys and her have always been close and I was always the outsider. The fact that she doesn’t have a cruel nature and is mostly friendly in her way of interacting with people doesn’t make her an instant ally.”

“What does the King think about it?” Arya asked.

“He is neutral. My father was some sort of hero to her when we were children, but I do not know what she thinks of him since he sent her to the Storm Lands.”

“She didn’t want Lord Baratheon, I understand.” Arya concluded.

“Not at first. The idea of marrying into a house of traitors wasn’t something she liked, but Renly was a child during the rebellion. He had no blame in it. The other problem is that she grew up believing she would marry another Targaryen. The gods know Viserys used to say that she was born to be a queen whenever he got the chance.”

“At times I forget how weird this family’s traditions can be.” Arya said as a matter of fact. “Promise me you won’t keep this nonsense.”

“I don’t intend to. Neither my father or I followed the tradition and it’s rather pointless to keep it when we need stability in the country. It made sense when dragons were still alive and forging alliances wasn’t exactly necessary.”

“A wise decision.” Arya agreed. “Daenerys wanted to marry Viserys or you?”

“I don’t think she ever considered me as a possibility since Viserys kept saying that I was a bastard and therefore had no claim. She had a thing for my Father, I guess. It used to be highly disturbing. At time she would antagonize my mother. Anyway...Life here got way easier without the Queen Mother around.”

“You speak of her as if she wasn’t your grandmother.”

“She never considered me as her grandson in the first place. I was never allowed to refer to her as anything but Queen Mother. Father wanted to send her to Dragonstone, but she refused to go. She kept her distance from me and my mother, but never reprimanded Viserys for his acts against me.”

“How bad was it?” That was something she had been curious about for a while but never really thought it to be appropriate to ask him.

“Most of the scars that I have...They didn’t come from my training with weapons.” Jon said it with a sad voice as he lowered his gaze. Arya understood that he felt ashamed of it and he heart ached for him. It wasn’t fair. He hadn’t been safe in his own house and that was a terrible thing to imagine. The reality she knew was completely different. All of her siblings, no matter how difficult they might be to handle, were fiercely protective of each other.

Arya didn’t say a thing about it. Just put Visenya to sleep before they could leave the room and retire for the day.

Once in bed she held him tight and kissed him with a tenderness that was growing day by day in her heart. After all their quarrels and differences being overcome, Arya couldn’t accept the idea that one day someone might have hurt him so cruelly. Nobody deserved to be afraid inside a place that was meant to be a sanctuary, but for a member of royalty Arya suspected that was something more usual then she would like.

There was gentleness in their lovemaking that night. They were usually bold and creative about their intimacy, never shying away of trying new things, but she wanted it to be slow and full of carrying tenderness for a change. Jon followed her lead as he usually did and when Arya reached her climax she experienced a sense of plenitude as well.

“I need you to help me.” Jon whispered to her once he recovered his breath. He caressed her face gently and kissed her forehead before looking into her eyes.

“What for?” Arya was half sleeping already.

“With Daenerys.” He explained. “You are the first lady of court now that my mother is gone. I need you to entertain her or...To serve as my diplomat in this.”

“Why would Daenerys listen to anything I may have to say? I’m a northerner just like your mother was. I even look like her, which might bring back some sour memories. Even if she feels inclined to give me the benefit of the doubt, I don’t know what I could possibly say or do to help your cause.”

“Be yourself.” He smiled at her sweetly. “I’ve seen how easily you make friends. You have this charisma, this talent to make people love you. Charm her with your wit and humor or whatever it is that you do that make people so devoted to you.”

“I can try, I suppose. I’m just not sure if she will see me as friend, or simply as the woman that took away the position she craved for herself.” She said cautiously.

“Royal children don’t usually have many friends and I’m not sure if she has any at the Storm Lands. I believe she would like having one.” Jon kissed her lips. “I’m inclined to relax your punishment so you can have some diversion. You will be able to leave the palace and have some fun at the city if so you want.”

“Is this my reward for accepting your plan? Do you really thing you need to buy my loyalty like this?”

“No, I don’t think that I need. I just think you would like it.” He said simply. “We are getting along, aren’t we? At least I would like to believe so.”

“We are, but I would help you with Daenerys even if you said that my punishment wouldn’t be affected. Whatever happens to you now...I’ll be affected as well and...In the end of the day we only have each other. It doesn’t make much sense for me to go against you when you are my only friend inside this place.” Jon held her tightly for a second. That much was true. They only had each other and they were stronger together. “Will I be able to write home? I would like to write to my mother.”

“I don’t think I’m confident enough to allow you to write on your own. But you can have a maester writing a letter for you and it shall be sent to Lady Stark.”

“Even if it’s something very much personal?” At that she made a face. “I wouldn’t like to have a maester snooping around my correspondence.”

“What is it that you could possibly write to your mother that is so embarrassing?” Jon asked with humor.

“Women talk.” Arya cut him immediately.

“Fine. I’ll have to sleep on it for a while.” Jon said as he closed his eyes.

 

§§§§§§§§§§§§§

 

Even if leaving had become a painful affair since Lyanna’s death, he couldn’t pretend that ignoring his responsibilities completely was something possible. Jon wasn’t ready just yet and Rhaegar could sense his brother lurking in the shadows already.

One day the boy would be a great king, but it was still Rhaegar’s duty to prepare his successor and also the woman that would seat by Jon’s side.

The reports from the North were a cause of worry for him while Jon was away. When Lady Arya’s participation was confirmed, Rhaegar had been petrified with fear of the danger of taking a separatist into his family, but Jon managed to avoid the scandal and now the girl was under a light sort of punishment.

She took a liking for taking care of Visenya that Rhaegar thought to be suitable and welcome. His daughter needed all the love she could get and if Arya Stark could create a bond with the Targaryens, she wouldn’t feel inclined to betray them in the future. To support any sort of rebellion was also against her best interests now that she was a Targaryen by marriage.

He thought Jon would pretend to not see her transgressions, but the king was wrong about that. Arya had arrived at the city under house-arrest. She was mostly restricted to the solar and Jon controlled everyone who had access to her. The boy had learned well. The most dangerous knife is that held by those we love. Even if the Prince loved the girl fiercely, he wasn’t taking risks with her and Lady Arya seemed to accept the punishment without much quarrel.

Even so, that piece of information could be used against Viserys if not handled with care. There was also the fact that the girl had yet to give Jon an heir. That was another thing to worry.

A son would grant Jon a more stable and smooth ascension to the throne. Continuity would be secured and those who might see in Viserys a safest bet would soon turn sides. Rhaegar could only hope that any child born from that union would at least bare some trait of valyrian blood. That would put doubts to rest and Jon’s legitimacy wouldn’t be questioned ever again.

Even so preparations should be made. Visenya was second in line and there was no doubt about her legitimacy. Naming her Jon’s legitimate heir should he die without issue was a way to mitigate the tragedy, but a ruling queen would still be tricky to defend. Viserys would come after the princess like a vicious snake.

Maybe that fear was what driven him to visit the baby girl everyday. A feeble instinct of protecting the last piece of Lyanna and make sure their children would be safe should anything happened to the King.

That morning Visenya wasn’t in the nursery though. The nurses and septas said the Princess had been taken by Princess Arya for a walk. Apparently Jon had allowed his wife to take a walk with Visenya through the gardens for a bit of fresh air and Benjen had been assigned to keep an eye on them. In a way it felt strange. Slowly Rhaegar was becoming a guest in his own house. The Prince Regent was making of the Red Keep his own court and domain while the old King was just another duty he had to manage.

Rhaegar found them at the godswood. The Stark girl was holding a very energetic Visenya in her arms as the little Princess tried to grab Arya’s hair.

The similarity between his daughter-in-law and Lyanna would never fail to bring an ache to his heart. Rhaegar could even notice how uneasy Jon got whenever he saw the King looking her way. Not that Rhaegar would ever consider getting anywhere near that girl. He had learned his lesson long ago and another war wasn’t something he craved for.

Arya was startled by his presence once she noticed the King. Visenya seemed pleased to see her father as she waved her arms his way.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m sorry.” Rhaegar said with a calm and steady voice. Arya seemed uncomfortable in his presence. “I just wanted to spend some time with my daughter, but the nurses said you took her for a bit of fresh air.”

“I’m sorry about it. I just thought it would be good for her to have a bit of sunlight. She is always inside the palace. It could do her good.” Arya explained herself.

“A good idea. Where is Benjen?” Rhaegar asked as he looked around and saw no guards with them.

“He got inside the palace to fetch the princess a toy.” She said. “Visenya likes her rag doll. It soothes her when she gets agitated.”

“I suppose it’s her only friend. It’s understandable that she likes it so much.” Rhaegar said before taking the girl from Arya’s arms. “Thank you for taking care of her as you do.”

“It’s not as if I had much to do inside the palace except waiting for Jon to come back. I like spending time with her though. Reminds me of my younger brother when he was just a baby.” Arya explained.

“Did the Prince allowed you to leave the solar?” Rhaegar asked calmly. Arya lowered her face in embarrassment.

“He didn’t mind it since I told him I would just take Visenya to get some air.” Arya said. “I’m not planning a rebellion if that’s what truly worries Your Grace.”

“I have many worries, but somehow you are not one of them.” Rhaegar said with an indulgent smile. “Of course your transgressions couldn’t pass by unnoticed or unpunished, but you have been an exemplar hostage so far.”

“Thank you for this kind remind of my real position in this household.” She replied bitterly. There was something amusing about her blunt defiance and rebellious nature. Lyanna used to talk like that in the early days of their marriage. After Jon’s difficult birth and all the tragedy of the war his queen became more resigned, docile and indifferent to him.

“Don’t take me wrong. I was very proud of Jon’s choice and I gave him my entire support when he said that he wanted you for his wife. I thought the match to be ideal for a number of reasons being your blood connections only a small part of it.” Rhaegar sat by her side under the heart tree while keeping a respectable distance. “You are made of ice and steel, I think. Lyanna used to be like this and I think these qualities to be ideal in any queen. Besides...You and Jon have similar tempers. Both stubborn, determinate, with a sharp mind and truly concerned with this country. Your actions were misguided, but your heart was in the right place.”

“You don’t think of me as a threat then. I’m a convicted traitor and Your Grace still thinks of me as a good choice for your son. This family is truly mad.” At that Rhaegar smiled.

“I was very concerned by your involvement, but after observing you for a while I can only conclude that you no longer feel inclined to act against us. You are one of us after all.” He said. “I hope you’ll remember that when Viserys comes for my son. It will be your life and those of your children in danger. Don’t be foolish to think that my brother would ever spare you.”

“I don’t expect anything but cruelty from this man. I would gladly slit his throat if given the chance.” Arya replied sharply. Apparently Jon had turned her into his ally.

“You are right to think like this.”

“May I ask Your Grace a question?” Arya’s voice was careful which could only be interpreted as a sign of her curiosity.

“Ask it.” Rhaegar allowed.

“Why did you allow Viserys to hurt your own son?” Arya asked bitterly. “You were King already. Your Grace have spies to tell you everything that happens in the Seven Kingdoms, but you didn’t know what was happening in your own household?”

That was a fair question, even if Rhaegar felt terribly embarrassed by it. His daughter-in-law was very fond of vexing him and that wasn’t something he was used to. Arya was like a cruel remind of all his wrong-doings.

“I chose to believe that nothing was happening, I guess. My late mother was still alive at the time and she had lost a great deal. I had lost a great deal as well and I didn’t want to antagonize her. Viserys was also very careful about his actions. He inherited my father’s taste for cruelty, but there was refinement to his methods.” Rhaegar confessed. “It took me a while to notice. Lyanna was faster. She forbid my siblings to get anywhere near Jon. It was both a blessing and a curse. Kept Viserys away, but prevented Daenerys to develop a closer relationship with Jon. This might still work against my son. There’s also the fact that Viserys used to be a sweet child. I was already a man grown when he was born and he would follow me everywhere. I loved him and I couldn’t see the danger behind his actions. It was too late when I noticed and it broke me. I sent him to Dorne hoping that he would find some joy in his marriage, but it was Daenerys who he wanted.”

“You should learn to confront the hard truths.” Arya suggested. “You did none of them any good by pretending that nothing was happening. Jon counted on you for protection and you failed him.”

“I’ll assume that you’ll never forgive me for that.” The King concluded.

“I won’t forgive you for a number of things. It was your fault that my grandfather and uncle were killed. It was because of you that my people fought a terrible war just to lose in the end. My father would have lost his head because of it. You could have tried to make emends, but you preferred to look the other way. You did it with my family, with the North and with both your wives and children. My aunt had her share of blame in this, but you were the one who should know better. As for Jon...It feels like you’ve never seen him as your son at all. Every time you make the slightest compliment to him it feels like he had never heard any kind word from you. The rumors of illegitimacy...Your lack of affection might have only feed them. It’s not madness what will destroy you. It will be this indifference.”

Her words cut him as a blade never could. The girl was right and - king or not – Rhaegar couldn’t bring himself to reply to her accusations.

“I hope you won’t let him make the same mistakes I’ve made.” He replied with tears in his eyes. Tears of utter sadness and shame. “He is a good boy, thanks to all of Lyanna’s efforts. He deserved a better father. I know he will be a great King and at least he has it in him to love without getting blind. A gentle nature that is rare to princes and a dutiful and honorable disposition, without being indulgent or weak. He will be a better father to Visenya and I think you already have for her a motherly kind of love.”

“Someone must fix this mess, I suppose.” Arya agreed soberly. “Visenya will always be treated as one of our own children. As for Jon...I won’t let him walk away from a righteous path. I don’t even think he will be difficult to handle in this. As you said...He has a gentle nature. He is a good man already.”

“I would have loved to have a daughter like you.” The King smiled at her with fondness. “Not only because you have all of Lyanna’s boldness. You have something of Lady Catelyn. A fierce loyalty and a womanly kind of courage that men can’t understand. You would command armies if given the chance and men would still think of you as their sisters, daughters and wives. I can only hope that Visenya will learn such qualities from you.”

“I am your daughter by marriage, am I not?” Arya corrected him once more. “You Grace is not the monster that I thought. Only a lost man in need of guidance and a bit of perspective. You have much to fight for.”

“Indeed I have.” He agreed. “Thank you for your honesty. Promise me you will remain this way. Counselors only help so much when we don’t feel inclined to listen out of arrogance. Jon won’t be able to escape your advises and I believe the kingdom will see great things from both of you.”

“I’m not a heroine. I am what I am. A she-wolf.” Arya replied gently. “Lonely wolves die during winter, but the pack survives. Jon is like this as well, even if he pretends to be more of a Targaryen. He is my pack now. We are stronger together.”

“I can only hope your pack will grow soon. I still want to hold my first grandchild. Lyanna would never forgive me if I left this world without doing it.”

“Maybe...” Arya said calmly. “It might not take long after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you'll like it. Reviews are highly appreciated as usual.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it and reviews are highly appreciated.


End file.
